A  STUDENT'S 
PHILOSOPHY  OF   RELIGION 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  •    BOSTON  •    CHICAGO 
DALLAS  •    ATLANTA  •    SAN  FRANCISCO 

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THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


A  STUDENT'S 
PHILOSOPHY  OF  RELIGION 


BY 

WILLIAM  KELLEY  WRIGHT,  PH.D. 

\» 

ASSISTANT    PROFESSOR    OF   PHILOSOPHY    IN    DARTMOUTH 
COLLEGE,  U.  S.  A. 

SOMETIME   INSTRUCTOR   IN   PHILOSOPHY   IN   CORNELL 
UNIVERSITY,  U.  S.  A. 


Nefo  gork 

THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 
1922 

All  rights  reserved 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


COPYRIGHT,  1922, 
By  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.  Published  February,  1922. 


FERRIS  PRINTING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK  CITY 


To 

"The  students  who  elected  the  courses  in  the 

History  and  Philosophy  of  Religion  at  Cornell 

University,    1913-1916,   and   the   summers    of 

1915  and  1917. 


£88531 


PREFACE 

THE  purpose  of  this  book  is  to  furnish  college  undergrad- 
uates and  general  readers  with  the  necessary  data — facts  and 
arguments — on  which  they  will  be  able  to  work  out  their  own 
philosophy  of  religion.  The  book  is  an  outgrowth  of  lecture 
courses  given  at  Cornell  University  from  1913  to  1916.  While 
the  majority  of  the  students  electing  these  courses  represented 
the  various  Protestant  denominations,  there  were  a  number  of 
Roman  Catholics  and  Jews  in  each  class,  and  a  fair  sprinkling 
of  men  and  women  who  at  any  rate  believed  themselves  to  be 
atheists  and  agnostics.  The  constituency  of  the  classes  led  us 
to  be  objective  and  impersonal,  to  respect  one  another's 
opinions  and  sentiments,  and  to  realize  that  there  are  several 
sides  to  most  religious  and  philosophical  questions.  We  con- 
centrated our  attention  upon  the  philosophical  and  psycho- 
logical study  of  features  common  to  all  the  three  religious 
confessions  represented ;  by  so  doing,  we  believed  that  we  were 
concerning  ourselves  with  those  features  of  religion  that 
probably  are  most  significant.  My  endeavor  never  was  to 
influence  any  one  to  change  his  religious  affiliations.  Whenever 
a  student  consulted  me  privately,  I  advised  him  to  continue  in 
the  religious  faith  and  associations  in  which  he  had  been 
brought  up, — unless  he  had  formed  deep  and  rationally 
grounded  convictions  that  rendered  this  impossible,  which  was 
very  rarely  the  case.  Students  frequently  urged  me  to  publish 
the  lectures,  and  I  promised  to  do  so.  The  interruptions  of  the 
war,  and  the  necessary  concentration  of  time  upon  my  courses 
in  another  institution,  in  which  I  do  not  teach  the  philosophy 
and  psychology  of  religion,  have  prevented  an  earlier  fulfilment 
of  this  promise. 

My  experience  has  been,  that  when  an  undergraduate  elects 
a  course  in  the  philosophy  department  bearing  on  religion  it 
is  usually  for  one  or  more  of  the  following  reasons.  Either 
he  wants  to  make  up  his  mind  whether  or  not  there  is  a  God, 


vi  PREFACE 

and  if  there  is  a  God,  what  kind  of  one ;  or  he  is  puzzled  about 
the  freedom  of  the  will,  or  the  problem  of  evil ;  or  he  wonders 
if  he  has  a  soul,  and  whether  it  is  immortal.  Very  likely  he 
is  asking  himself  whether  or  not  he  ought,  as  an  intelligent 
person,  desirous  of  his  own  mental  and  moral  advancement 
and  conscious  of  his  social  obligations,  to  become  or  to  remain 
identified  with  a  church  or  synagogue.  Perhaps  he  is  suspicious 
that  the  mechanical  and  evolutionary  conceptions  taught  in 
the  sciences  with  which  he  has  become  acquainted  call  seriously 
into  question  the  truth  of  whatever  religious  instruction  he 
has  had.  Very  often,  too,  he  is  curious  to  know  something 
about  the  different  religions  of  the  world.  In  these  days,  when 
almost  everybody  in  college  elects  psychology,  he  is  pretty 
sure  to  be  curious  about  what  psychology  has  to  say  concern- 
ing religion. 

For  one  instructor  to  treat  of  all  these  topics  in  a  single 
course  is  a  rather  large  undertaking,  especially  if  he  has  to 
devote  much  of  his  time  to  teaching  other  of  the  philosophical 
subjects  ordinarily  included  in  an  undergraduate  curriculum. 
However,  the  demand  for  this  kind  of  a  course  is  genuine,  deep 
and  earnest,  and  philosophy  departments  ought  to  meet  it.  So, 
though  painfully  conscious  of  its  inadequacies,  I  venture  to 
submit  this  book.  While  not  claiming  to  be  a  specialist,  I  have 
endeavored  everywhere  to  follow  the  best  authorities  and  to 
consult  sources  as  freely  as  possible.  I  hope  that  I  have  not 
made  too  many  mistakes.  My  own  opinions  on  the  various 
topics  are  frankly  stated,  but  I  hope  not  made  obtrusive,  or 
put  in  a  way  that  will  prejudice  the  reader's  judgment,  or 
prevent  him  from  making  independent  conclusions. 

The  literature  to  which  I  am  indebted  is  indicated  in  the 
notes,  and  in  lists  of  references  appended  to  the  chapters. 
Those  of  my  teachers  whose  influence  was  greatest  in  the 
formation  of  my  philosophical  and  psychological  opinions  as 
an  undergraduate  and  graduate  student  were  Professor  James 
H.  Tufts  and  President  James  Rowland  Angell.  Other 
teachers  to  whom  I  owe  much  are  Professors  A.  W.  Moore, 
G.  H.  Mead,  E.  S.  Ames,  and  Warner  Fite.  My  views  have 
since  become  considerably  modified  under  the  influence  of 
Professors  J.  E.  Creighton  and  William  McDougall;  and,  to 
a  less  extent,  but  substantially,  by  many  others — in  degrees 
not  always  proportionate  to  the  length  or  brevity  of  my 
personal  contact  with  them.  Among  these  latter  must  be 


PREFACE  vn 

mentioned  Professors  Frank  Thilly,  E.  B.  McGilvary,  L.  T. 
Hobhouse,  Graham  Wallas,  Irving  King,  J.  H.  Leuba,  Dr. 
F.  C.  S.  Schiller,  and  Dr.  R,  R.  Marett.  Most  recently  my 
thought  has  been  colored  by  contact  with  Professors  W.  H. 
Sheldon  and  W.  M.  Urban,  who  have  in  succession  been  col- 
leagues at  Dartmouth  College.  I  owe  much  to  my  wife,  for 
criticisms  of  lectures  and  manuscript,  and  assistance  in  correct- 
ing the  proof. 

The  principal  claim  that  I  can  make  for  originality  is  the 
arrangement  of  the  material  and  its  adaptation  to  the  needs 
of  students  and  other  readers.  However,  I  may  deserve  some 
credit  for  my  definition  of  religion  (Chapter  V),  and  the 
various  applications  of  this  definition  in  the  remainder  of 
Part  I,  for  my  interpretation  of  the  religious  attitude  as  a 
sentiment  (Chapters  XIV,  XV)  and  for  certain  ideas  in  the 
sections  headed  "The  Author's  Opinions"  in  the  chapters  of 
Part  III. 

I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  defend  my  methodology 
in  this  volume,  as  I  have  treated  this  subject  in  an  article, 
"The  Relation  of  the  Philosophy  of  Religion  to  the  Psychology 
of  Religion,"  published  in  the  Philosophical  Re-view  in  March, 
1918.  I  believe  that  this  book  has  been  written  in  accordance 
with  the  principles  advocated  in  that  article.  The  abundant 
use  of  concrete  material,  especially  in  the  earlier  chapters,  is 
the  result  of  my  experience  as  a  teacher.  I  regret  the  necessity 
of  giving  up  so  much  space  to  illustrations,  and  the  conse- 
quently slow  movement  of  thought.  But  this  is  inevitable,  in 
view  of  the  increasingly  narrow  range  of  cultural  information 
at  the  command  of  American  undergraduates,  especially  upon 
all  topics  in  any  way  connected  with  philosophy  and  religion. 
It  will  be  practicable  for  teachers  who  find  it  necessary  to 
make  omissions  to  leave  out  Chapters  VII-XIII;  or  any  entire 
Part  could  be  taken  up,  and  the  other  two  left  out.  As  there 
is  some  continuity  running  through  the  chapters,  there  would 
be  something  lost  in  reading  them  in  different  order;  except 
that  much  might  be  said  for  the  study  of  Chapter  XIV 
immediately  after  Chapter  I. 

A  few  words  in  conclusion  regarding  the  value  of  the  study 
of  the  subjects  treated. 

Few  disciplines,  at  least  as  it  appears  to  me,  rival  the 
philosophy  of  religion  in  the  mental  training  and  breadth  of 
culture  afforded.  The  student  has  to  learn  to  enter  imagina- 


vni  PREFACE 

tlvely  and  sympathetically  into  the  emotional  attitudes  of  the 
various  types  of  religious  experience  in  order  to  understand 
them.  At  the  same  time  he  has  to  evaluate  these  experiences 
cold-bloodedly  in  a  disinterested  effort  to  determine  what  truth, 
if  any,  they  contain.  He  must  learn  how  to  weigh  evidence 
where  demonstration  is  impossible,  and  to  determine  the  amount 
of  probability  afforded  by  arguments  based  upon  analogies. 
He  must  learn  to  be  content  to  suspend  his  judgment  on  many 
points.  He  must  also  learn,  where  a  decision  has  to  be  made — • 
such  as  his  own  personal  attitude  toward  a  religious  body  to 
which  he  feels  attracted — to  form  a  conclusion  in  accordance 
with  what,  in  the  absence  of  certainty,  he  judges  on  the  whole 
to  be  most  probable.  He  must  acquire  the  ability  to  consider 
fairly  the  different  sides  of  a  question,  and  to  extract  the  truth 
from  each.  He  must  gain,  not  merely  tolerance,  but  also 
sympathy  and  respect  for  those  who  arrive  at  different  con- 
clusions from  himself. 


CONTENTS 

PART  I.  RELIGION  AND  THE  CONSERVATION  OF 
VALUES. 

CHAPTER  I.— INTRODUCTION.  1 

(i)  The  two  questions — is  religion  true?  and  what  is 
religion?  The  latter  to  be  discussed  first,  (n)  A  word  of 
counsel,  (in)  Definitions  of  the  psychology  and  philosophy 
of  religion,  theology,  natural  and  ethical  religions. 

CHAPTER  II.  RELIGION  IN  ITS  LOWEST  TERMS.   8 

(i)  Reasons  for  beginning  with  the  natives  of  Australia. 
(n)  Australian  ceremonies  described.  (m)  Why  these  are 
religious,  (iv)  The  supernatural  element  in  the  ceremonies. 
(v)  Values  conserved. 

CHAPTER  III.  THE  DIFFERENTIATION  OF 
RELIGION.  18 

(i)  Introduction,  (n)  Religion  of  the  Todas.  (in) 
Lessons  from  Toda  religion,  (iv)  The  Melanesians.  Mana. 
(v)  Psychological  explanation  of  mana.  (vi)  Is  there  any 
truth  in  the  mana  conception? 

CHAPTER1  IV.    RELIGION  DIFFERENTIATED.        31 

(i)  The  Baganda.  (n)  Gods,  (m)  Fetiches,  (iv) 
Amulets,  (v)  Ghosts,  (vi)  Magic,  (vn)  Conservation  of 
values,  imaginary  and  real. 

CHAPTER  V.  DEFINITION  OF  RELIGION.  RELA- 
TION OF  RELIGION  TO  OTHER  HUMAN  ACTIVITIES. 

41 

(i)  Purpose  of  the  definition,  (n)  Its  genus,  (m)  Its 
differentia,  (iv)  Comparative  religion,  (v)  Relation  of 
religion  to  animism,  (vi)  to  magic,  (vn)  to  morality,  (vra) 
to  art — to  play. 

CHAPTER  VI.  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  DEITIES, 
SACRIFICE  AND  PRAYER.  58 

(i)  The  rise  of  ceremonials,  (n)  The  evolution  of  deities, 
(in)  of  sacrifice,  (iv)  of  prayer. 

CHAPTER  VII.    BRAHMANISM.  69 

(i)    Introductory,    (n)    Vedic  period,    (m)     Brahmanical 

IX 


x  CONTENTS 

period,  (iv)  Philosophical  period.  Brahmanism:  description; 
psychology;  merits  and  defects,  (v)  Modern  Hinduism,  (vi) 
Concluding  remarks — Why  Brahmanism  failed — application  to 
America  to-day. 

CHAPTER  VIII.    BUDDHISM.  85 

(i)  Introduction — comparison  with  Christianity,  (n)  The 
Buddha — facts  and  legends,  (in)  The  Doctrine; — Nirvana; 
karma;  other  details;  not  wholly  pessimistic,  (iv)  The 
Brotherhood,  (v)  Events  in  Buddhist  history,  (vi)  Merits 
and  defects  of  primitive  and  Southern  Buddhism,  (vn) 
Mahayana  Buddhism.  (VHI)  Buddhism  in  China  and  Japan, 
(ix)  Respective  merits  of  Buddhism  and  Christianity. 

CHAPTER  IX.     GREECE  AND  ROME.  108 

(i)  Introduction,  (n)  Family  religion,  (in)  Religion  of 
Greek  city  state — deities  and  values,  (iv)  The  Olympians. 
(v)  Attempted  reforms  by  poets  and  philosophers,  (vi)  Greek 
mystery  religions,  (vn)  Religion  in  the  Roman  republic, 
(vin)  Religion  and  the  Roman  emperors,  (ix)  Mystery 
religions  in  the  Roman  empire — Mithraism  and  Christianity. 
(x)  Debt  of  modern  religion  to  Greece  and  Rome. 

CHAPTER  X.    JUDAISM.  131 

(i)  Introduction.  Contrast  with  Greece  and  Rome,  (n) 
Historical  outline,  (m)  The  prophets  before  the  exile,  (iv) 
The  law  and  the  synagogue,  (v)  The  Messianic  hope,  (vi) 
Conclusions;  comparison  with  Christianity;  the  future  of 
Judaism. 

CHAPTER  XI.  ANCIENT  AND  MEDIEVAL  CHRIS- 
TIANITY. 151 

Definition  of  Christianity,  (i)  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  (n)  The 
Apostolic  Age.  (m)  The  Ancient  Catholic  Church ;  episkopoi; 
(iv)  canon ;  (v)  sacraments ;  sacramentals ;  (vi)  creeds ; 
(vn)  function,  (vin)  The  medieval  Latin  church. 

CHAPTER  XII.    MODERN  CHRISTIANITY.  172 

(i)  The  modern  Roman  Catholic  church,  (n)  The  earlier 
Protestantism, — general  characteristics ;  (m)  Movements  on 
the  continent  of  Europe ;  Lutheranism ;  Calvinism ;  Arminian- 
ism;  Socinians.  (iv)  The  English  reformation;  the  Anglican 
church ;  Puritans ;  Baptists  ;  Presbyterians  ;  Friends.  (  v)  The 
Enlightenment ;  philosophical  movements ;  influence  on  religion. 
(vi)  The  Evangelical  revival;  the  Wesleyans.  (vu)  Construe- 


CONTENTS  xi 

tive  movements  in  philosophy;  intuitiomsm ;  romanticism; 
Kant;  post-Kantians ;  influence  on  religion,  (vni)  Recent 
tendencies  in  Protestantism;  Unitarianism ;  liberalism  in  the 
orthodox  churches. 

CHAPTER  XIII.  CHRISTIANITY  AND  THE  CON- 
SERVATION OF  VALUES.  199 

Introduction,  (i)  Values  which  Christianity  has  conserved, 
(n)  The  function  of  the  Christian  religion,  (in)  Differences 
between  denominations  in  values  recognized,  (iv)  Finality. 

PART  II.  RELIGION  AND  THE  SELF. 
CHAPTER  XIV.  PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS.  214 

(i)  Introductory,  (n)  The  Subconscious,  (m)  Instincts, 
(iv)  Habits  and  Sentiments,  (v)  The  religious  sentiment, 
(vi)  Innate,  non-specific  tendencies:  suggestion,  sympathy, 
imitation,  play,  (vn)  Development  of  the  self;  application  to 
the  religious  sentiment. 

CHAPTER  XV.  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT.  234 
(i)  Introductory,  (n)  Religion  in  childhood,  (m)  Ado- 
lescence, (iv)  The  religious  sentiment  in  adolescence; — 
continuous  religious  growth;  conversion;  mixed  types  of 
awakening,  (v)  Role  of  the  subconscious  in  adolescent  awaken- 
ings, (vi)  Conditions  determining  the  types  of  awakening, 
(vn)  Adults,  (vm)  Pseudo-conversions  and  revivals,  (ix) 
Non-religious  awakenings,  (x)  The  relation  of  God  to 
religious  awakenings. 

CHAPTER  XVI.    PRAYER.  257 

(i)  The  conversational  nature  of  thought  and  prayer,  (n) 
Types  of  prayer,  (m)  Merits  and  limitations  of  each  type, 
(iv)  Prayer  and  the  subconscious,  (v)  Prayer  tends  to 
become  discriminating,  (vi)  The  efficacy  of  prayer,  (vn) 
The  objectivity  of  prayer;  theories  of  an  external  and  of  an 
immanent  God. 

CHAPTER  XVII.    MYSTICISM.  286 

(i)  Introductory;  definitions,  (n)  Milder  forms  of  mysti- 
cism, (in)  The  great  mystics,  (iv)  Spiritual  exercises,  (v) 
Ecstasy ;  visions,  (vi)  Inspiration,  (vn)  When  are  mystical 
states  normal?  (vm)  Mysticism  and  truth. 

PART  III.   RELIGION  AND  REALITY. 
CHAPTER  XVIII.     MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY. 

305 
(i)    Introductory:  metaphysics;  teleology;  mechanism,  (n) 


xn  CONTENTS 

Inorganic  evolution,  (in)  Are  organisms  mechanistic  or 
teleological?  (iv)  Biological  evolution,  (v)  Psychology, 
(vi)  Teleology  and  dysteleology.  (vn)  What  does  the  world 
purpose  include? 

,  CHAPTER  XIX.    EVIDENCE  OF  GOD.  338 

Introductory,  (i)  The  conception  of  God  is  symbolical  and 
anthropomorphic,  (n)  Arguments  for  the  existence  of  God: — 
(1)  teleological  and  evolutionary;  (2)  religious  experience; 
(3)  moral  arguments;  (4)  idealistic  arguments;  (5)  prag- 
matic arguments;  (6)  the  new  realism,  (in)  Arguments 
against  belief  in  God:  (1)  atheistic;  (2)  agnostic,  (iv)  The 
"right  to  believe"  argument.  Faith. 

CHAPTER  XX.  THE  NATURE  OF  GOD  AND  THE 
PROBLEM  OF  EVIL.  370 

(i)  Introductory,  (n)  Traditional  theism,  (m)  The  older 
pantheism,  (iv)  Modern  philosophical  theism  and  pantheism, 
(v)  James*  conception  of  an  external  God.  (vi)  Other 
theories  of  a  limited  God.  (vn)  Royce's  conception  of  an 
immanent  God.  (vin)  God  and  absolute  idealism,  (ix)  The 
author's  opinions. 

CHAPTER  XXI.    GOD  AND  HUMAN  FREEDOM.    391 

Purpose  of  this  chapter,  (i)  Traditional  theism,  (n) 
Freedom  as  employed  in  ethics, — "psychological"  and  "ethical." 
(in)  Freedom  in  psychology,  (iv)  "Determinism"  and  "indeter- 
minism."  (v)  Indeterminism  and  God.  (vi)  Royce's  conception 
of  freedom  and  the  Absolute,  (vn)  The  author's  opinions, 
(vin)  Conclusion. 

CHAPTER  XXII.     IMMORTALITY.  412 

(i)  Immortality  as  a  known  fact, — "biological"  and  "social." 
Significance  of  "personal  immortality"  as  here  employed,  (n) 
Conditions  of  personal  immortality  as  a  postulate,  (in)  Is 
continued  existence  after  death  scientifically  possible?  (iv) 
What  kind  of  personal  immortality  is  morally  desirable?  (v) 
Arguments  for  immortality  as  a  postulate,  (vi)  Types  of 
immortality  as  a  postulate — separate  souls,  continued  existence 
in  God.  Royce's  attempted  combination,  (vn)  Salvation  and 
damnation,  (vni)  The  author's  opinions,  (ix)  Conclusion. 


A  STUDENT'S 
PHILOSOPHY   OF   RELIGION 


A  STUDENT'S 
PHILOSOPHY   OF   RELIGION 

CHAPTER  I 
INTRODUCTION 

THE  time  has  passed  when  thinking  men  and  women  can 
either  accept  or  reject  religion  uncritically,  The  age  of  faith, 
when  persons  could  be  led  through  simple  and  childlike  trust 
to  accept  religious  teaching  unquestioningly,  has  passed  away. 
No  reasonable  person  now  can  think  it  wrong  to  doubt,  or  to 
ask  for  the  reasons  why  he  should  believe.  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  time  has  ceased  when  anyone  who  knows  anything 
about  the  subject  tries  to  explain  away  religion  by  attributing 
its  origin  to  fraud  and  superstition.  A  factor  that  has 
persisted  so  long  in  human  history,  and  influenced  society  in 
all  ages  so  profoundly,  must  hold  some  integral  place  in  human 
life  and  experience.  It  has  had  its  beginnings  in  the  beliefs 
and  practices  of  the  lowliest  savages.  From  these  we  can, 
with  some  degree  of  confidence,  outline  the  gradual  course 
of  its  evolution  down  to  the  present  time.  Religion  must  be 
regarded  as  one  of  the  most  important  and  fascinating  subjects 
for  human  investigation. 

I — The    Two    Questions 

The  first  question  that  a  beginner  in  the  study  of  religion 
naturally  wishes  to  ask  is,  "Is  religion  true?"  A  very  little 
thought,  however,  will  convince  anyone  that  this  question 
cannot  be  answered  by  a  simple  "Yes"  or  "No";  and  that 
before  it  can  be  considered  at  all,  it  is  first  necessary  to  find 
an  answer  to  the  question  "What  is  religion?"  For  while  all 
of  us  have  general  notions  as  to  what  we  mean  by  the  word, 
it  would  be  quite  impossible  for  anyone  to  give  an  accurate 
definition  of  religion  without  considerable  study. 

There  are  two  ways  of  attempting  to  answer  this  question, 
"What  is  religion?"  We  shall  make  use  of  both  of  them.  In 
Part  I  we  shall  endeavor  to  trace  the  course  and  development 

It 


2  INTRODUCTION 

of  religion  through  human  history,  to  find  out  what  character- 
istics have  always  belonged  to  it  and  so  appear  to  be  essential ; 
and  what  characteristics  have  appeared  only  at  times  and  not 
at  others,  and  so  are  presumably  accidental  to  it;  what  are  the 
laws  that  govern  its  development;  and  what  influence  it  has 
had  upon  human  events. 

Part  II  will  be  devoted  to  the  second  way  of  answering  the 
question,  "What  is  Religion?"  This  will  be  a  report  of  some 
things  that  psychologists  have  learned  from  a  study  of  the 
religious  experiences  of  persons  most  of  whom  have  lived  in 
our  own  times.  These  will  throw  much  light  on  the  kinds  of 
religious  experience  that  people  now  have,  and  the  nature  and 
efficacy  of  religious  awakenings,  prayer,  and  mystical  states. 

Thus  acquainted  with  the  facts  of  religion,  we  shall  be 
prepared,  in  Part  III,  to  take  up  the  fundamental  question,  "Is 
Religion  true?  Does  it  have  a  genuine  place  in  a  philosophical 
account  of  the  world,  comparable  with  that  occupied  by 
science?"  Successive  chapters  will  consider:  whether  the  world 
can  best  be  regarded  as  exclusively  mechanical  (a  possibility 
obviously  unfavorable  to  Religion),  or  whether  it  is  also  in 
some  respects  purposive  (a  possibility  that  admits  of  the 
existence  of  God)  ;  what  arguments  philosophers  now  advance 
in  favor  of  the  existence  of  God ;  what  they  believe  His  nature 
to  be,  His  relation  to  evil,  to  the  freedom  of  the  human  will, 
and  to  human  immortality. 

The  purpose  throughout  the  book  will  be  to  help  the  reader 
to  think  out  his  philosophy  of  religion  for  himself.  While  the 
author  will  always  conclude  by  giving  his  own  opinions,  the 
reader  should  never  accept  any  of  them,  unless,  after  criticizing 
them  in  every  way  he  can,  they  appear  to  him  more  reasonable 
than  any  alternative  opinions  that  occur  to  him.  No  educated 
person  can  ever  acquire  any  beliefs  on  the  subject  of  religion 
that  will  be  of  the  slightest  benefit  in  his  own  life  or  that  will 
increase  his  effectiveness  as  a  member  of  society  until  he  has 
thought  them  out  for  himself  and  made  them  his  very  own. 

II — A  Word  of  Counsel 

A  word  of  counsel  needs  to  be  given  before  taking  up  the 
body  of  the  book.  One  reason  for  devoting  so  much  space  to 
religions  in  other  lands  and  periods  of  history  in  Part  I,  and 
for  giving  so  many  references  and  comparisons  to  other 
religions  than  the  one  immediately  under  consideration  all 


INTRODUCTION  3 

through  the  book,  is  to  widen  the  range  of  vision  as  much  as 
possible.  For  instance,  the  best  way  to  understand  and 
appreciate  the  Founder  of  Christianity  is  to  know  something 
of  the  founders  of  other  religions, — especially  of  Gautama 
Siddartha,  the  Buddha,  one  of  the  gentlest,  wisest  and  most 
self-sacrificing  of  men. 

To  understand  any  religion  it  is  not  enough  to  know  some 
of  the  facts  about  it,  such  as  its  doctrines,  ritual,  moral 
precepts,  ecclesiastical  organization,  and  the  architecture  of 
its  temples.  These  are  merely  the  externals  of  a  religion — 
at  most  its  foliage.  The  core  of  a  religion  is  not  easily 
described.  A  religion  must  be  felt,  if  it  is  to  be  really  under- 
stood. The  reader  should  always  try  to  put  himself  in  the 
place  of  the  believers  and  practicers  of  the  religion  under 
immediate  consideration,  to  imagine  himself  feeling  as  they  do, 
suffering  as  they  have  often  suffered,  and  experiencing  their 
hopes  and  joys.  He  will  then  be  able  to  understand  how  the 
religion  has  developed, — its  ritual,  body  of  doctrine,  organiza- 
tion and  other  manifestations.  These  will  be  seen  to  be  the 
natural  expression  of  its  life.  With  our  sympathy  must  be 
combined  frank  criticism.  But  appreciation  should  never  be 
lacking.  Every  attempt  of  humanity  to  reach  forth  to  some- 
thing higher  and  better  than  it  knows,  surely  deserves  respect. 
And  as  a  matter  of  fact  we  shall  see,  that  religions  have  usually, 
at  least,  been  modes  by  which  man  really  has  advanced  to  higher 
levels  of  moral  and  social  insight  and  attainment. 

Ill — Definitions 

Preliminary  to  the  subsequent  chapters  it  is  necessary  for 
us  to  become  acquainted  with  a  few  definitions.  By  the 
Psychology  of  Religion  is  meant,  a  scientific  description  and 
explanation  of  the  mental  states  and  outward  behavior  ofi 
individual  persons,  and  groups  of  persons  when  they  have 
religious  experiences.  In  Part  I  these  processes  will  be 
observed  quite  untechnically.  For  instance,  we  shall  observe 
that  custom  and  tradition  influence  religious  beliefs  very 
largely,  that  Australian  youth  at  their  initiation  ceremonies 
probably  have  experiences  similar  to  the  spontaneous  religious 
awakenings  and  conversions  of  Americans  at  the  present  time, 
and  so  on.  In  other  words,  we  shall  observe  simply  that  mental 
processes  of  a  religious  nature  sometimes  affect  a  whole  group 


4  INTRODUCTION 

or  society  of  people,  and  that  at  other  times  processes  go  on  by 
which  the  individual  absorbs,  and  in  some  sense  makes  his  own, 
the  religious  experiences,  customs,  and  beliefs  of  his  group.  In 
Part  II,  on  the  other  hand,  some  attempt  will  be  made  at  a 
more  technical  explanation  of  such  processes  in  the  language 
of  modern  psychology.  The  reader  should  bear  in  mind,  in 
reading  Part  I,  that  more  thorough  analysis  and  explanation 
have  been  reserved  for  Part  II,  where  both  the  data  derived 
from  the  history  of  religions  and  from  reports  of  contemporary 
religious  experience  will  be  available. 

In  Part  III,  we  shall  be  studying  the  philosophy  of  religion 
in  its  narrower,  metaphysical  sense.  Thus  understood,  the 
Philosophy  of  Religion  considers  the  truth  of  Religion,  what 
is  the  ultimate  significance  of  its  practices  and  beliefs  in  an 
interpretation  of  the  world  as  a  whole,  or,  more  technically,  the 
relation  of  Religion  to  Reality.  Thus  the  relationship  between 
religion  and  science,  and  whether  religion  like  science  is  a 
source  of  knowledge,  are  philosophical  problems  in  the  narrower 
sense.  The  philosophical  arguments  for  a  universe  in  which 
moral  purposes  are  accomplished,  the  existence  and  nature  of 
God,  and  immortality  all  belong  to  this  field.  The  purpose 
of  the  book  as  a  whole  is  primarily,  of  course,  to  throw  light 
upon  these  ultimate  philosophical  questions. 

Theology  in  the  traditional  sense  of  the  term  is  a  very 
different  discipline  from  the  philosophy  of  religion  and  should 
not  be  confused  with  it.  To  be  sure,  it  treats  of  many  of  the 
same  subjects, — the  truth  of  religion,  and  arguments  for  the 
existence  of  God  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  But  tradi- 
tional theology  finds  its  ultimate  source  of  knowledge  in  an 
authoritative  revelation  or  pronouncement  of  some  sort — the 
sacred  scriptures  of  the  religion,  or  the  decretals  of  councils, 
or  the  sayings  of  the  founders  of  the  religion,  or  special 
revelations  to  priests,  prophets  and  saints.  The  dogmas  of 
theology  are  believed  to  be  more  certain  than  all  other 
knowledge,  and  not  subject  to  the  tests  of  human  reasoning; 
they  are  beyond  the  power  of  man's  mind  to  comprehend.  This 
attitude  is  common  to  Brahman,  Mohammedan,  Jewish  and 
Christian  dogmatic  theology.  In  recent  times  there  have  arisen, 
chiefly  among  Protestants  and  Jews,  but  also  to  some  extent 
in  other  faiths,  advocates  of  what  is  termed  "liberal  theology." 
Such  thinkers  if  they  are  "liberal"  in  the  extreme,  base  their 


INTRODUCTION  5 

religious  doctrines  wholly  upon  reason  and  experience, 
precisely  as  a  science  would  do,  or  as  the  philosophy  of  religion 
does.  Between  such  extremely  liberal  theology  and  the 
philosophy  of  religion  there  is  only  one  important  difference: 
liberal  theologians  are  chiefly  interested  in  the  study  of  the 
particular  religion  to  which  they  adhere  and  the  beliefs 
connected  with  it  (such  as  Christianity,  Judaism,  etc.),  while 
the  philosophy  of  religion  concerns  itself  impartially  with  the 
more  general  principles  that  apply  to  all  or  many  religions, 

A  scientific  definition  of  religion  will  be  given  in  Chapter  V. 
For  the  present  we  must  be  content  simply  with  a  rough 
working  description  of  part  of  what  a  religion  does.  A 
religion  is  a  certain  kind  of  systematic  effort  to  secure  the 
conservation  and  enhancement  of  values.  The  character  of 
the  values  depends  on  the  degree  of  advancement  of  the  religion 
and  of  the  civilization  in  which  it  appears.  In  lower  religions, 
which  we  shall  call  "natural  religions,"  the  values  are  all 
concrete,  tangible,  practical  wants.  If  food  is  sometimes 
scarce,  and  means  of  cultivation  of  the  soil  or  raising  flocks 
and  herds  are  inefficient,  there  are  likely  to  be  religious 
ceremonials  to  obtain  food,  as  we  shall  see  is  the  case  among 
the  natives  of  Central  Australia.  If  water  is  scarce,  as  in 
the  Arabian  desert,  every  spring  of  water  may  be  thought  of 
as  sacred, — the  habitat  of  a  local  spirit  or  god  who  must  be 
propitiated  to  obtain  water.  If  the  chief  need  of  man,  which 
he  himself  cannot  supply,  is  protection  from  perils  of  thunder, 
lightning,  earthquake,  flood  and  cataract,  as  in  Central 
Africa,  these  become  matters  of  religious  attention.  Gods  and 
spirits  are  often  consulted  for  information  as  to  the  future,  as 
the  oracles  of  Greece,  or  for  counsel  in  matters  too  difficult 
for  men  to  decide,  as  when  the  Hebrews  cast  lots  and  supposed 
that  Yahweh  decided  the  outcome.  Protection  from  disease, 
especially  pestilence,  and  the  desire  for  long  life,  riches  and 
posterity  are  values  with  which  natural  religions  often  have 
been  concerned.  The  attitude  of  the  practicer  of  the  religion 
is  often  mechanical  or  at  least  quasi-magical.  By  his 
performances  he  thinks  that  the  result  will  be  brought  about, 
either  automatically,  or  through  the  agency  of  some  super- 
natural being  who  will  be  compelled  to  assist.  Before  this 
stage  is  left,  however,  the  attitude  of  man  to  spirits  or  gods 
becomes  humble;  perhaps  he  tries  to  bargain  with  them, 
thinking  that  they  will  be  pleased  at  his  gifts ;  or  more  humble 


6  INTRODUCTION 

still,  he  prostrates  himself  before  them  in  the  hope  that  they 
will  be  touched  at  his  meekness  and  devotion. 

In  contrast  to  natural  religions  are  the  ethical  religions. 
In  these,  thinking  men  have  come  to  feel  that  the  fundamental 
thing  to  seek  through  religion  is  not  so  much  material  goods 
as  a  pure  heart  and  a  noble  life.  Moral  conduct  has  become 
the  supreme  value  to  be  conserved.  The  greatest  evil  man  has 
to  overcome  is  his  own  sinful  nature,  which  curses  him  now, 
and  threatens  to  continue  to  bring  harm  upon  him  in  a  future 
life.  So  ethical  religions  are  usually  religions  of  redemption, 
and  afford  man  some  way  of  escape  from  his  sinfulness.  This 
may  be  provided  by  a  prescribed  course  of  conduct,  as  in 
primitive  Buddhism,  or  by  devotion  to  a  Saviour  God  as  in 
the  Shin  sect  of  Buddhism,  in  several  of  the  ancient  mystery 
religions,  and  above  all,  in  Christianity. 

In  natural  religions  the  values  chiefly  sought  are  those  of 
general  concern  for  the  welfare  of  the  family  or  clan  more 
often  than  the  individual.  This  is  because  the  individual  has 
little  consciousness  of  himself  as  a  person.  Political  and 
economic  evolution  are  tardy;  only  very  slowly  does  a  man 
acquire  rights  to  private  property  and  personal  responsibility 
for  his  own  acts.  So  he  counts  for  little  as  a  person.  Religious 
evolution  is  usually  even  slower.  Explanations  of  religious 
matters  are  made  by  myths — products  of  the  imagination,  often 
full  of  absurdities  which  are  uncritically  accepted  and  passed 
down  from  one  generation  to  another  by  word  of  mouth. 
Personal  belief  in  myths,  however,  is  of  less  consequence  than 
the  faithful  observance  of  ritualistic  acts  (sacrifices,  cere- 
monies of  initiation,  purification,  avoidance  of  things  that  are 
taboo,  etc.).  Provided  one  observes  the  prescriptions  of  ritual, 
it  matters  little  whether  he  believes  in  the  mythical  explanations 
of  the  ritual. 

In  ethical  religions  the  individual  comes  into  his  own.  His 
soul  is  now  seen  to  possess  inestimable  worth.  His  responsi- 
bility to  his  fellow  men,  as  well  as  to  supernatural  beings, 
becomes  personal  and  immediate.  Some  of  the  more  plausible 
myths  of  earlier  periods  may  be  retained,  but  religious  thought 
becomes  more  logical,  and  seeks  to  justify  and  explain  its 
prescriptions  in  doctrines  that  are  products  of  reason  rather 
than  imagination.  These  often  develop  into  dogmas,  which 
must  be  unquestioningly  believed  as  an  indispensable  condition 
of  salvation. 


INTRODUCTION  7 

In  connection  with  the  term  subconscious  it  will  suffice  for 
the  present  to  remember  that  we  are  influenced  in  our  thoughts 
and  actions  by  impulses  of  which  at  the  time  we  are  unaware. 
Such  impulses  are  said  to  be  due  to  the  subconscious.  An 
illustration  would  be  the  instance  of  feeling  suddenly  prompted 
to  turn  a  street  corner  in  a  certain  direction  without  knowing 
why,  and  later  recalling  a  forgotten  errand  that  would  take 
one  in  that  direction.  Such  an  incident  shows  that,  somewhere 
in  one's  mind  or  brain  the  errand  was  remembered,  although  it 
certainly  was  not  present  in  conscious  attention.  There  are 
people  into  whose  minds  the  results  of  what  would  ordinarily 
be  the  outcome  of  long  and  studied  deliberation  sometimes  flash 
suddenly,  as  if  due  to  inspiration.  Forgotten  incidents  some- 
times are  recalled  in  dreams  and  waking  visions.  Great 
importance  was  attached  in  early  religions  to  such  experiences, 
which  were  often  believed  to  be  supernatural  revelations. 
Whether  subconscious  processes  are  wholly  physiological,  or 
whether  they  imply  mental  processes  of  which  one  is  unaware, 
will  be  left  undecided  until  Chapter  XIV. 


CHAPTER  II 

RELIGION  IN  ITS  LOWEST  TERMS 
I — Reasons  for  Beginning  with  the  Natives  of  Australia 

WHAT  little  is  known  of  the  religious  beliefs  of  prehistoric 
man  seems  to  indicate  that  his  religious  beliefs  and  practices 
were  not  greatly  different  from  those  that  exist  in  the  savage 
world  to-day.  By  comparing  religious  beliefs  among  savages 
on  different  planes  of  development,  we  can  form  some  idea  how 
religion  appeared  among  men  as  a  separate  interest  and 
activity,  and  what  had  been  the  general  course  of  its  develop- 
ment among  the  ancestors  of  civilized  nations  prior  to  the 
beginning  of  recorded  history. 

It  will  not  be  profitable  to  attempt  to  begin  an  outline  of 
the  evolution  of  religion  with  the  very  lowliest  races  now  in 
existence,  so  far  as  lack  of  intelligence  and  social  organization 
are  concerned,  like  the  Rock  Veddahs  of  Ceylon,  the  Fuegians 
of  Tierra  del  Fuego,  and  the  Negritoes  of  Central  Africa,  1. 
We  do  not  possess  sufficiently  accurate  and  detailed  informa- 
tion about  these  races  upon  the  points  of  most  concern  to  the 
student  of  comparative  religion. 

It  is  desirable,  however,  to  begin  with  folk  who  are  still  at  a 
stage  of  development  prior  to  the  emergence  of  religion  as  a 
separate  human  activity,  with  distinct  institutions.  The 
biologist  often  finds  it  desirable  to  begin  an  account  of  some 
line  of  animal  evolutionary  development  with  the  amoeba,  in 
which  no  differentiation  of  the  different  functions,  such  as 
respiration,  circulation,  assimilation,  execretion,  reproduction 
and  locomotion,  has  yet  taken  place,  but  all  are  still  performed 
by  a  single  cell.  Similarly,  it  is  convenient  for  the  student  of 
comparative  religion  to  begin  with  a  people  among  whom  the 
essential  functions  of  religion  exist,  but  have  not  yet  become 
differentiated  from  other  activities.  Such  is  the  state  of 
religion  among  certain  of  the  native  races  of  Australia,  and 
this  is  the  primary  reason  why  we  shall  begin  our  study  with 
them. 

8 


CEREMONIES  9 

There  are  four  other  reasons  why  the  natives  of  Australia 
are  probably  the  most  important  savage  races  now  in  existence, 
for  the  beginner  in  the  study  of  religion.  First,  they  seem 
to  be  the  least  developed  savage  people  regarding  whose 
religion  we  have  fairly  full  and  trustworthy  reports.  The 
investigations  of  Spencer  and  Gillen  and  of  Howitt  have  been 
very  thorough  and  painstaking,  and  have  since  been  confirmed, 
so  far  as  essentials  are  concerned,  by  the  independent 
researches  of  Strehlow  and  others,  2.  Secondly,  these  native 
races  have  occupied  an  entire  continent.  We  can  certainly  feel 
surer  of  conclusions  based  on  Australian  races  than  those  based 
on  comparatively  small  and  isolated  tribes.  Thirdly,  until  com- 
paratively recently,  they  have  been  little  disturbed  by  contact 
with  other  races.  Spencer  and  Gillen  are  able  to  report  to  us 
native  Australian  religion  in  its  pristine  purity,  uninfluenced 
by  ideas  brought  in  by  missionaries  and  traders.  And,  finally — 
a  reason  of  practical  importance — many  of  the  recent  theories 
on  the  origin  and  nature  of  religion  are  based  upon  these 
peoples,  and  cannot  be  made  clear  without  reference  to  them. 

II — Australian  Ceremonies 

In  many  respects  the  natives  of  Australia  are  certainly 
primitive  enough.  Their  economic  development  is  the  very 
lowest.  They  do  not  raise  flocks  or  herds,  nor,  still  .less,  culti- 
vate the  soil.  The  men  hunt  kangaroos,  emus,  and  other  wild 
animals,  and  display  some  skill  in  stalking  their  prey,  and  in 
using  boomerangs.  The  women  gather  small  game  (such  as 
lizards  and  honey  ants),  and  collect  such  vegetables  as  they 
can  find  growing  wild.  Although  in  winter  there  are  chilly 
days  and  frosty  nights,  they  have  not  learned  to  make  clothes 
for  themselves.  They  suffer  with  the  cold,  and  gladly  wear 
any  cast  off  apparel  that  white  people  may  give  them.  The 
native  hut  is  the  crudest  and  most  primitive  imaginable, — 
"merely  a  lean-to  of  shrubs  so  placed  as  to  shield  the  occupants 
from  the  prevailing  wind,"  3.  They  can  readily  count  up  to 
five ;  further  reckoning  is  difficult  for  them,  4.  However,  they 
have  developed  a  complicated  system  of  totems,  and  elaborate 
regulations  governing  marriage. 

It  is  surprising  that  among  these  peoples  we  find  none  of 
the  religious  ideas  that  would  at  first  seem  fundamental.  There 
is  no  notion  of  prayer  or  other  means  of  communication  with 
spirits,  gods,  or  supernatural  beings  of  any  sort.  There  are 
neither  priests  nor  temples.  It  therefore  has  sometimes  been 


10  LOWEST  TERMS  OF  RELIGION 

said  that  these  peoples  belong  to  the  pre-religious  stage, — that 
their  rude  culture  antedates  the  appearance  of  religion  among 
mankind.  However,  it  is  more  accurate  to  say  that  religion 
exists  among  them  in  an  undifferentiated  form,  since,  as  we 
shall  see,  they  possess,  to  say  the  least,  some  of  the  germs  of 
religion  as  it  exists  among  higher  races. 

Among  the  Arunta  tribe  (regarding  which  the  statements 
in  this  chapter  specifically  apply,  when  other  tribes  are  not 
mentioned)  a  boy  passes  through  four  initiations.  The  first 
of  these  takes  place  when  he  is  ten  or  twelve  years  old.  The 
men  and  women  assemble  at  a  central  spot  near  the  main  camp, 
and  the  boys  who  have  reached  the  right  age  are  taken  one 
by  one  and  tossed  into  the  air  by  the  men  who  catch  them  as 
they  fall,  while  the  women  dance  round  and  round  the  group, 
swinging  their  arms  and  shouting.  The  boys  are  then  painted 
on  their  chests  and  backs  with  simple  designs  in  red  or  yellow 
ochre.  While  this  is  being  done,  the  boys  are  told  that  the 
ceremony  through  which  they  have  just  passed  will  promote 
their  growth  to  manhood,  that  in  future  they  must  not  play 
with  the  women  and  girls,  nor  camp  with  them,  but  that  here- 
after they  must  go  to  the  men's  camp.  Whereas  hitherto  they 
have  been  accustomed  to  go  out  with  the  women  in  their  search 
for  vegetable  food  and  smaller  animals  like  lizards  and  rats, 
they  shall  henceforth  accompany  the  men  in  hunting  larger 
game.  They  now  begin  to  look  forward  to  the  time  when  they 
will  become  fully  initiated,  and  will  know  all  the  secrets  of  the 
tribe. 

The  second  initiation,  that  of  circumcision,  is  more  elaborate 
and  takes  place  when  the  boy  is  somewhat  older.  In  one 
witnessed  by  Spencer  and  Gillen,  and  described  by  them  in 
detail,'  the  boy  to  be  initiated  was  seized  by  three  loudly 
shouting  young  men  and  carried  off  to  the  carefully  prepared 
ceremonial  ground,  out  of  sight  of  the  women  and  children. 
"The  main  object  of  this  partial  seclusion  is  to  impress  him 
with  the  fact  that  he  is  about  to  enter  the  ranks  of  the  men, 
and  to  mark  the  break  between  his  old  life  and  the  new  one; 
he  has  no  precise  knowledge  of  what  is  in  store  for  him,  and 
the  sense  that  something  out  of  the  ordinary  is  about  to  happen 
to  him — something,  moreover,  which  is  of  a  more  or  less 
mysterious  nature — helps  to  impress  him  strongly  with  a 
feeling  of  the  deep  importance  of  compliance  with  tribal  rules, 
and  further  still  with  a  strong  sense  of  the  superiority  of  the 


CEREMONIES  11 

older  men  who  know,  and  are  familiar  with,  all  the  mysterious 
rites,  some  of  which  he  is  about  to  learn  the  meaning  of  for 
the  first  time,"  5.  On  the  fourth  day  the  initiate  was  brought 
back  to  a  secluded  spot  prepared  for  him  near  the  ceremonial 
ground,  where  he  was  placed  under  strict  guard.  During  the 
following  four  days  the  boy  was  kept  in  seclusion  except  at 
stated  times  when  he  was  brought  out  to  witness  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  various  solemn  ceremonies  in  which,  by  dance, 
song,  acting,  and  pantomime,  the  totemic  animals  are 
portrayed,  and  the  ancestors  of  the  tribe  are  represented  as 
they  are  supposed  to  have  appeared  and  acted  during  life. 
From  the  morning  of  the  ninth  day  ceremonies  increased  in 
frequency  and  excitement  until  night ;  at  intervals — through- 
out the  latter,  with  face  covered,  the  initiate  heard  the  singing 
of  the  fire  song.  At  the  break  of  the  following  day,  he  was 
rubbed  afresh  with  ochre  and  made  all  that  day  to  witness 
ceremonials  and  hear  shouts  and  songs.  After  dusk,  while 
the  ceremonial  fire  was  blazing  and  the  bull  roarers  making  a 
terrific  din  which  the  women  and  children  suppose  to  be  the 
roaring  of  a  great  spirit  who  has  come  to  take  the  boy  away 
into  the  bush,  the  painful  operation  was  performed  with  a 
small  flint  knife.  The  boy  was  then  congratulated  if  he  had 
not  cried  out,  various  secret  emblems  were  shown  him  which 
it  was  believed  would  hasten  the  healing  of  his  wound,  and 
which  he  must  guard  and  not  lose  on  penalty  of  death  to 
himself  and  various  relatives. 

The  initiation  over,  the  boy  is  kept  under  more  or  less  strict 
surveillance  for  sufficient  time  to  allow  his  wound  to  heal — 
about  five  or  six  weeks.  He  then  has  to  undergo  the  third 
initiation,  which  terminates  with  another  painful  mutilation 
called  sub-incision. '  This  is  likewise  attended  by  elaborate 
ceremonials  which  reveal  ~to  him  sacred  and  secret  tribal  lore 
and  tradition.  Somewhat  similar  but  simpler  ceremonies  are 
passed  through  by  the  girls.  These,  however,  merely  have  for 
their  purpose  the  assurance  of  their  physical  development  into 
womanhood,  and  so  no  tribal  lore  or  secrets  are  revealed  to  them. 

Some  years  later,  when  a  man  is  at  least  twenty-five  or 
thirtv  vears  of  age,  he  passes  through  the  final  and  most 
elaborate  initiation  of  all,  called  the  Engwura  or  "fire" 
ceremony,  from  the  fact  that  it  terminates  with  an  ordeal  in 
which  the  initiate  has  to  lie  down  for  four  or  five  minutes  upon 
green  boughs  placed  over  a  fire  of  hot  embers.  This  ceremony, 


12  LOWEST  TERMS  OF  RELIGION 

or  rather  series  of  ceremonies,  lasts  for  months, — that  witnessed 
by  Spencer  and  Gillen  continuing  from  the  middle  of  September 
to  the  middle  of  January, — during  which  men  and  women 
assemble  from  all  parts  of  the  tribe  and  even  from  distant 
tribes.  From  one  to  five  or  six  different  ceremonials  of  an 
elaborate  character  were  produced  every  day.  Councils  of  the 
old  men  were  held  frequently,  and  all  the  traditions  and  lore  of 
the  tribe  were  repeated  and  discussed,  kept  fresh  in  memory, 
and  told  to  the  initiates.  Sacred  objects  (churinga)  were 
produced  and  examined.  After  the  native  has  passed  through 
this  initiation  he  is  said  to  be  Uliara,  that  is,  a  perfectly 
developed  member  of  the  tribe.  "The  natives  themselves  say 
that  the  ceremony  has  the  effect  of  strengthening  all  who 
pass  through  it.  It  imparts  courage  and  wisdom,  makes  the 
men  more  kindly  natured  and  less  apt  to  quarrel. 
Evidently  the  main  objects  of  it  are,  firstly,  to  bring  the  young 
men  under  the  control  of  the  old  men,  whose  commands  they 
have  to  obey  implicitly ;  secondly,  to  teach  them  habits  of 
self-restraint  and  hardihood;  and  thirdly,  to  show  to  the 
younger  men  who  have  arrived  at  mature  age,  the  sacred 
secrets  of  the  tribe  which  are  concerned  with  the  Churinga  and 
the  totems  with  which  they  are  associated,"  6. 

Each  native  belongs  to  a  totem,  that  is,  he  or  she  is 
mystically  united  with  some  plant  or  animal.  The  nature  of 
this  union  is  not  clearly  thought  out  by  the  savage  himself. 
Savages  do  not  feel  the  civilized  man's  need  to  explain  every- 
thing in  logical  conceptions.  They  dogmatically  say  of  a 
given  man  that  "he  is  a  kangaroo,"  an  "emu,"  or  what  not,  and 
that,  in  their  minds  is  the  end  of  the  matter.  Explanations, 
when  given,  vary  among  different  Australian  tribes,  and  among 
different  savage  races  all  over  the  world.  The  Arunta  believe 
that  each  individual  in  the  tribe  is  the  direct  reincarnation 
either  of  an  ancestor  of  the  same  totem  as  he,  or  else  of  the 
spirit  part  of  an  animal  of  the  totem.  7. 

Except  on  rare  ceremonial  occasions  an  individual  must  not 
partake  of  his  totem  as  food,  on  account  of  his  mystic  union 
with  the  totem.  The  union,  however,  affords  him  the  power  to 
increase  the  supply  of  the  totemic  plant  or  animal  for  the 
benefit  of  the  members  of  other  totems,  and  he  accordingly 
goes  through  elaborate  totemic  ceremonials  for  this  purpose. 
These  'intichuima..  ceremonies,  as  they  are  called,  in  some  of 
Which  the  totemic  food,  sacred,  and  for  the  most  part  forbidden 


CEREMONIES  13 

to  them  at  other  times,  is  partaken  of  by  the  participants, 
seem  in  some  respects  to  contain  some  of  the  rudiments  of  the 
conception  of  a  sacrifice.  Totemic  food  is  eaten  among  the 
Arunta  by  those  mystically  bound  together  in  a  common  fellow- 
ship to  ensure  a  desired  result  not  possible  by  ordinary  human 
means  but  achieved  by  this  solemn  act.  However,  the  partaking 
of  totemic  food  is  not  characteristic  of  the  ceremonies,  in  some 
of  the  other  Australian  tribes,  8;  nor  does  it  seem  to  be  more 
prominent  than  other  details  in  the  ritual  where  it  does  appear. 

Ill — Why  the  Australian  Ceremonies  are  Religious 

If  we  now  reflect  upon  these  Australian  ceremonies  we  shall 
perceive  in  them  some  of  the  characteristics  of  higher  religions. 
When  Jewish  youth  are  confirmed  or  when  Christian  youth  are 
confirmed,  come  to  first  communion,  or  make  a  profession  of 
faith  and  join  the  church,  or  when  a  Buddhist  boy  after  prelim- 
inary religious  instruction  solemnly  takes  the  three-fold  vow 
"I  take  my  refuge  in  the  Buddha,  I  take  my  refuge  in  the 
Doctrine,  I  take  my  refuge  in  the  Brotherhood  of  the  Elect," — 
what  is  the  significance  socially  and  personally  of  the  action? 
These  rites  to  the  young  Jew  or  Buddhist  or  Christian  mean 
an  enlargement  and  an  enhancement  of  his  life, — a  deepening, 
widening,  and  intensifying  in  value  to  him  of  the  precepts  and 
ideals  which  he  first  learned  at  his  mother's  knee  and  which 
have  since  constantly  been  impressed  upon  him  by  the  conduct 
and  precepts  of  his  elders.  All  the  worship  which  hitherto  had 
been  somewhat  external  to  him,  which  he  had  merely  witnessed, 
now  comes  home  to  him  in  fuller  significance.  His  intellectual 
comprehension  of  it  has  now  for  the  first  time  become  at  all 
adequate;  his  emotional  reaction  toward  it  has  now  become 
intimate  and  personal.  He  has  taken  the  law  of  Moses  and 
the  love  of  Jehovah  into  his  very  heart  and  mind,  or  the  "noble 
eight-fold  path"  of  the  Buddha  has  become  the  chart  and 
compass  of  his  life,  or  he  has  "put  on  Christ"  and  dedicated 
his  soul  to  His  service. 

The  initiation  ceremonials  appear  to  serve  similar  functions 
for  the  Australian  blacks.  Socially,  the  ceremonies  conserve 
what  is  dear  and  sacred  in  their  past,  and  pass  it  down  to  the 
coming  generation.  Individually,  they  ensure  that  initiates 
receive  this  lore  in  a  proper  frame  of  mind — awe  and  humility 
combined  with  intense  emotional  excitement  and  exaltation. 
The  values  of  higher  religions  are  more  moral  and  more 


14»  LOWEST  TERMS  OF  RELIGION 

spiritual ;  and  more  refined  means  than  the  infliction  of  physical 
suffering  and  insistence  upon  secrecy  and  mystery  are  used 
to  lead  the  initiate  to  revere  sacred  principles  and  to  make 
them  basic  in  his  life.  But,  when  allowance  is  made  for  the 
difference  in  the  level  of  his  civilization,  these  ceremonials  of 
the  Australian  native  may  be  said  to  correspond  to  those  of 
higher  religions.  We  may  therefore  conclude  that  the  natives 
of  Australia  possess  a  religion. 

IV — The  Supernatural  Element  in  the  Ceremonies. 

The  effect  both  of  the  initiation  and  the  intichiuma  ceremo- 
nies is  to  cultivate  a  tremendous  awe  for  tribal  tradition  and 
custom.  "As  amongst  all  savage  tribes  the  Australian  native 
is  bound  hand  and  foot  by  custom.  What  his  fathers  did 
before  him  he  must  do.  If  during  the  performance  of  a 
ceremony  his  ancestors  painted  a  white  line  across  the  fore- 
head, that  line  he^must  paint."  Any  infringement  of  custom, 
within  certain  limitations,  is  visited  with  some  and  often 
severe  punishment,  9.  The  most  severely  punished  offenses  are 
breaches  of  tribal  custom.  The  sufficient  explanation  for  any 
action  is  simply  that  it  is  customary,  that  it  has  always  been 
done.  That,  as  a  rule,  is  absolute  and  final ;  no  change  is  to  be 
considered  for  a  moment,  and  reasons  are  unnecessary.  If 
reasons  are  given,  they  are  myths  of  the  origin  of  the  custom, 
or  tales  of  terrible  disasters  that  have  followed  upon  neglect 
of  its  observance.  It  is  therefore  logical  to  suppose,  as 
Durkheim  and  others  have  suggested  that  to  the  native 
the  might  of  tribal  custom  and  tradition  seems  like  an  actually 
existing  force,  something  that  weighs  upon  him,  not  physical 
to  be  sure,  and  not  personal,  but  none  the  less  objective  and 
powerful,  10.  He  probably  dimly  feels  that  some  sort  of  myster- 
ious impersonal  force  operates  in  the  initiation  ceremonies  and 
transforms  the  boys  both  physiologically  and  mentally  into 
men,  11.  Some  such  force  must  be  present  and  operative  in  the 
intichiuma  ceremonies,  and  it  must  be  a  force  common  in  this 
case  to  the  men  and  plants  or  animals  of  the  totems,  something 
in  which  they  all  participate,  that  has  not,  to  be  sure,  been 
intelligently  defined,  and  given  a  name,  something  felt  rather 
than  thought,  but  all  the  more  vivid  and  potent  because 
uncanny  and  mysterious. 

In  a  sense,  therefore,  Australian  religion  involves  a  dim, 
hardly  conscious  feeling  of  the  presence  of  something  super- 


SUPERNATURAL  ELEMENT  15 

natural,  something  that  is  not  human  and  yet  is  not  material, 
but  which  is  potent  in  the  life  of  man  and  which  is  efficient  in 
working  him  good  if  enlisted  on  his  side,  and  which  would 
work  him  harm  if  law  and  custom  were  disregarded.  However, 
as  has  been  said,  in  the  case  of  the  Central  Australian  tribes, 
this  has  not  assumed  a  personal  form,  nor  is  it  attributed  to 
the  agency  or  intervention  of  gods  or  spirits  of  any  sort.  Yet 
these  people  do  have  notions  of  supernatural  beings.  Spirits 
are  believed  to  exist  in  definite  spots  which  are  known,  12 ;  but 
spirits  are  connected  in  no  discernible  way  with  the  practices 
and  beliefs  that  seem  more  properly  to  be  designated  as 
religious.  If  Australian  tribes  can  be  regarded  as  throwing 
light  upon  the  matter,  therefore,  religious  rites  and  beliefs 
originated  independently  of  belief  in  spirits  and  supernatural 
personal  beings,  and  only  afterward  did  religion  come  to  make 
use  of  these  latter  conceptions.  And  this  view  of  the  matter  is 
coming  to  be  held  by  an  increasing  number  of  writers  on  the 
origins  of  religion,  13. 

In  certain  tribes  in  South-Eastern  Australia,  however,  there 
seem  to  be  the  beginnings  of  a  belief  in  a  god,  though  he  is 
not  worshipped.  The  boys  during  one  of  the  initiation 
ceremonies  are  shown  (apparently  in  good  faith)  an  image 
or  drawing  of  a  supernatural  being  (Daramulun,  Bunjil), 
who  they  are  told  first  taught  men  the  initiation  ceremony, 
and  who  would  be  angry  and  punish  them  if  they  should  reveal 
it.  He  is  thought  once  to  have  lived  on  earth  with  his  wives, 
and  to  have  taught  men  their  laws  and  morals,  and  then  to 
have  left  the  earth  and  gone  up  into  the  sky  where  he  now 
resides.  He  can  make  himself  visible  and  invisible  at  pleasure. 
If  visible  he  has  the  form  of  an  old  Australian  man,  "a 
venerable,  kindly  Headman  of  a  tribe,  full  of  knowledge  and 
tribal  wisdom,  and  powerful  in  magic  of  which  he  is  the  source, 
with  virtues,  failings,  and  passions,  such  as  the  aborigines 
regard  them."  "In  this  being,  although  supernatural,  there 
is  no  trace  of  a  divine  nature.  All  that  can  be  said  of  him 
is  that  he  is  imagined  as  the  ideal  of  those  qualities  which  are, 
according  to  their  standard,  virtues  worthy  of  being 
imitated,"  14.  The  belief,  however,  seems  undoubtedly  to  be  an 
aboriginal  development,  and  may  have  its  origin  in  the  common 
Australian  belief  in  ancestral  ghosts.  Dances  are  sometimes 
held  about  the  figure  of  this  being,  and  men  invoke  his  name 
in  magic.  Mention  of  this  being  affords  added  sanction  and 


16  LOWEST  TERMS  OF  RELIGION 

impressiveness  to  the  ceremonies,  and  this  may  be  a  subcon- 
scious reason  for  the  acceptance  of  him.  The  tribes  which 
believe  in  him  are  a  little  more  advanced  in  civilization  than 
the  others.  They  have  individual  marriage,  reckon  descent 
in  the  male  line,  base  their  organization  on  locality,  and 
certain  of  them  make  clothes  out  of  dried  opossum  skins,  15. 
With  better  social  organization,  the  psychologist  would  expect 
men  to  become  more  self-conscious  of  themselves  as  individuals. 
There  would  then  be  more  of  a  tendency  to  connect  to  some 
extent  the  impersonal  power  of  previous  religion  with  a  personal 
agency,  and  thus  give  rise  to  a  god.  But  of  course  such 
conjectures  are  rather  speculative. 

V — Values  Conserved  l>y  Australian  Religion 

What  functions  do  the  ceremonies  which  we  have  decided 
to  call  religious  play  in  the  social  life  of  the  native  races  of 
Australia?  !  It  is  clear  that  they  promote  social  solidarity. 
The  people  from  distant  localities  come  together  and  partici- 
pate in  solemn  rites,  festal  dances  and  discussion  of  their 
history  and  traditions.  This  makes  undoubtedly  for  mutual 
good  will,  promotes  neighborliness  and  good  fellowship,  and 
no  doubt  as  is  claimed  by  the  natives,  "makes  every  one  better" 
who  participates  in  the  ceremonies.  The  culture  of  the  past 
is  preserved  and  handed  down  to  the  next  generation.  It  is 
sad  to  note  that  the  influence  of  white  men  is  breaking  down 
this  reverence  for  tribal  morality  and  substituting  nothing  in 
its  place.  Old  men  are  sorrowfully  refusing  to  initiate  many 
of  the  young  men  whom  they  deem  unworthy  to  know  the 
precious  secrets  of  their  people,  16.  This  indicates  that  these 
ceremonies  have  had  a  very  real  moral  significance  in  the  life 
of  the  natives.  The  intichiuma  ceremonies,  too,  imply  co-oper- 
ation and  social  service.  The  men  of  a  totem  would  not  them- 
selves be  benefited  by  an  increase  in  the  supply  of  their  own 
totem.  But  they  perform  the  ceremonies  for  the  benefit  of  the 
rest  of  the  tribe,  and  with  the  expectation  that  other  tribes  will 
reciprocate  to  their  advantage^  Mr.  B.  Malinowski  has  pointed 
out  that  these  ceremonies  teach  the  natives  the  value  of  organi- 
zation, collective  effort,  and  the  regular  application  of  energy, 
performed  with  forethought  and  attention,  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  a  definite  aim.  None  of  their  other  activities  involve 
these  characteristics  to  an  equal  extent.  On  this  ground  he 
argues  very  reasonably  that  these  and  like  ceremonies  may  be 


VALUES  CONSERVED  17 

important  forerunners  of  the  rise  of  industry  and  economic 
division  of  labor  which  first  make  their  appearance  at  a  higher 
stage  of  development,  17. 

That  the  natives  do  not  understand  fully  the  real  services 
that  their  religious  acts  perform  for  them,  and  that  they 
mistakenly  fancy  that  initiation  ceremonies. effect  physiological 
changes,  and  intichiuma  ceremonies  increase  the  food  supply, 
ought  not  to  blind  us  to  the  significance  and  the  importance  of 
these  real  services.  And  if  these  ceremonies,  or  their  like,  may  be 
supposed  to  be  the  evolutionary  forerunners  of  higher  religions, 
they  are  of  further  value  in  making  this  evolution  possible. 

The  believer  in  the  truth  of  the  higher  religions  may  claim 
even  more.  Through  their  religious  beliefs  and  practices,  he 
may  maintain  that  the  natives  are  becoming  aware,  however 
dimly,  of  a  spiritual  power  in  the  universe  that  is  more  than 
human.  Vague  as  may  be  this  feeling  of  some  sort  of  imper- 
sonal power,  to  which  they  have  not  even  given  a  name,  through 
it  they  are  learning  that  the  world  is  not  wholly  material  or 
mechanical.  The  first  beginnings  of  the  religious  conception 
of  the  world  are,  in  other  words,  present  in  the  confused  mind 
of  the  Australian  savage.  And  if  these  notions  are  crude,  they 
are  no  more  undeveloped  than  his  science,  his  morality,  his  law, 
and  his  industries.  Savage  men  have  dimly  felt  many  of  the 
higher  social  values,  and  have  conserved  them  better  in  their 
actions  than  they  have  been  able  to  explain  them  rationally. 

REFERENCES 

*BALDWIN  SPENCER  and  F.  J.  GILLEN,  The  Native  Tribes  of  Central  Aus- 
tralia.    The  Northern  Tribes  of  Central  Australia. 
*A.  W.  HOWITT,  The  Native  Tribes  of  South-East  Australia. 
*W.    J.    SOLLAS,    Ancient   Hunters    and    Their   Modern   Representatives, 
Chap.  VII. 

SMILE  DURKHEIM,  Elementary  Forms  oftthe  Religious  Life. 
*WILHELM     WUNDT,     Outlines    of    Folk    Psychology,    Chapters     I,     II. 
Vb'lker  Psychologic. 

IRVING  KINO,  Development  of  Religion. 
*J.  H.  LEUBA,  Psychological  Study  of  Religion,  Part  II. 

R.  R.  MARETT,  Threshold  of  Religion. 

*JAMES  BISSETT  PRATT,  Psychology  of  Religioiis  Belief,  Chap.  III.  The 
Religious  Consciousness,  Chaps.  XII,  XIII. 

*EDWARD  S.  AMES,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  Part  II. 
C.  H.  TOY,  Introduction  to  the  History  of  Religions. 
JOHN   DEWEY,   "Interpretation  of  the  Savage  Mind"   in  Psychological 
Review,  1902. 

L.  T.  HOBHOUSE,  Morals  in  Evolution,  Part  II,  Chap.  I. 
L.  L£VY-BRUHL,  Fonctions  mentales  dans  les  races  inf6rieiires. 
J.  G.  FHAZER,  The  Golden  Bough.     Totemism  and  Exogamy,  Vol.  I. 
*References  designated  by  asterisks  are  recommended  to  beginners. 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  DIFFERENTIATION  OF  RELIGION 

I — Introduction 

AMONG  savages  upon  the  level  of  the  native  tribes  of  central 
Australia,  as  we  have  seen,  religion  is  not  yet  differentiated 
from  other  human  interests  and  activities.  We  have  chosen 
to  call  the  initiation  and  intichiuma  ceremonies  religious, 
because  they  serve  functions  analogous  to  those  performed  by 
religions  among  higher  races.  But  these  ceremonies  could 
quite  as  properly  be  classified  under  the  head  of  education  or 
of  magic,  if  we  were  tracing  the  evolution  of  either  of  those 
human  activities,  and  they  even  bear  some  connection  with 
the  evolution  of  art,  industry,  law  and  social  organization. 
These  ceremonies  include  most  if  not  all  the  culture  that  the 
natives  possess  in  any  of  these  fields.  We  have  come  to  regard 
religion  as  the  attempt  to  conserve  socially  recognized  values 
through  some  sort  of  supernatural  agency.  We  have  now, 
therefore,  to  consider  the  question,  How  does  religion  become 
differentiated  from  other  human  interests  and  efforts?  How 
does  religion  develop  its  own  specialized  methods  and  institu- 
tions,— sacrifice  and  prayer  on  the  one  hand,  and  gods,  priests, 
and  temples  upon  the  other?  How  does  the  religion  of  primi- 
tive peoples  become  distinct,  so  far  as  it  does  become  distinct, 
from  their  magic,  animistic  beliefs,  morality,  and  industry, 
and  how  is  it  related  to  them?  The  present  and  three  follow- 
ing chapters  will  endeavor  to  throw  some  light  upon  these 
questions.  The  reader  is  warned,  however,  that  upon  all  of 
these  questions  there  are  the  widest  differences  of  opinion  among 
different  authorities,  and  that  the'  author  is  stating  his  own 
opinions  rather  dogmatically. 

II — The  Todas 

One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  in  this  field  of  investigation  is, 
that  we  find  no  clear  instances  of  .any  great  amount  of  trans- 
formation going  on  in  a  comparatively  primitive  religion  at 
the  time  when  anthropologists  are  observing  it.  We  can  find 

18 


TODA  RELIGION  19 

savage  religions  in  what  appear  to  us  to  be  different  stages  of 
development,  but  we  do  not  enjoy  the  privilege  of  watching  a 
religion  to-day  actually  passing  from  one  of  these  stages  to 
another.  Consequently  the  assignment  of  religions  to  different 
stages  of  development  has  to  be  done  largely  on  the  basis  of 
the  theories  advanced  by  students  of  religion  which  appear 
most  reasonable  in  the  light  of  what  we  know  of  savage  religions 
on  the  one  hand,  and  of  psychology  upon  the  other. 

Fortunately,  however,  we  have  available  a  careful  report  of 
one  savage  people  whose  religion  has  undergone  such  striking 
changes  that  a  good  deal  of  light  is  thrown  upon  the  nature 
of  religious  evolution.  Students  of  comparative  religion,  there- 
fore, are  attaching  great  importance  to  the  religion  of.  the 
Todas,  which  has  been  reported  with  scientific  accuracy  by  Mr. 
W.  H.  R.  Rivers  of  Cambridge  University,  1. 

The  Todas  live  in  the  Nilgiri  Hills,  in  Southern  India,  upon 
a  high  plateau  which  is  comparatively  isolated.  There  are 
now  about  800  of  them,  scattered  in  numerous  small  villages. 
They  have  some  intercourse  with  the  other  inhabitants  of  the 
plateau,  the  Kotas  and  the  Bagadas,  but  maintain  a  very 
distinct  existence.  Their  chief  food  is  the  milk  of  the  buffalo 
cow,  and  the  various  dairy  products  made  from  it.  The  present 
religion  centers  about  this  food  supply, — the  value  that  they 
are  most  concerned  to  conserve.  The  milk  must  be  abundant 
and  pure,  so  everything  attached  to  the  milk, — the  cows,  the 
dairies,  the  dairymen,  dairy  utensils,  etc.,  are  sacred.  Some 
of  the  dairies  are  temples  and  the  dairymen  in  attendance 
are  virtually  priests.  Cows  differ  in  sanctity.  There  are  ordi- 
nary cows,  looked  after  by  the  men  and  boys  of  the  village, 
concerning  whose  care  there  is  little  ceremony,  the  milk  being 
churned  in  front  of  the  dwelling  hut  with  no  special  ritual 
and  no  restrictions  on  the  use  of  the  milk  and  its  products. 
The  men  and  boys,  however,  salute  the  sun  before  attending  to 
the  cows,  so  that  there  is  a  slight  employment  of  religion  in  the 
conservation  of  this  value.  The  sacred  cows  and  sacred  dairies 
are,  on  the  contrary,  surrounded  by  a  great  deal  of  ceremony. 
In  the  care  of  the  Ti  dairies,  the  most  ritualistic  of  all,  the 
dairyman  goes  through  an  elaborate  ceremonial  before  entering 
upon  his  sacred  office,  must  remain  a  strict  celibate  while  in 
office,  and  must  live  at  the  dairy  in  isolation  from  the  rest  of 
the  people. 

In  many   of   the   sacred   dairies   the  priest   must   recite   a 


20  DIFFERENTIATION 

prescribed  prayer  while  lighting  his  lamp  before  attending  to 
the  cows  in  the  morning,  after  milking  them,  and  before  leading 
them  out  to  pasture;  and  in  all  of  these  dairies  he  must  recite 
the  prayer  in  the  evening  before  and  after  milking,  and  when 
shutting  the  cows  up  for  the  night.  A  Toda  prayer  consists 
of  two  parts:  (1)  the  "prefaces"  (kwarzam) — a  miscellaneous 
list  of  names,  each  preceded  by  a  preposition  which  Mr.  Rivers 
translates  "for  the  sake  of";  and  (2)  the  main  body  of  the 
prayer.  The  Jcwarzam  are  sacred  and  secret,  and  Mr.  Rivers 
had  great  difficulty  in  inducing  the  natives  to  tell  them  to  him. 
In  the  case  of  the  prayer  of  the  Kuudr  village  dairy,  which 
is  typical,  the  Jcwarzam  include  the  names  of  the  village  and 
clan,  of  the  large  dairy  and  the  small  dairy,  of  the  lamp  at  the 
large -dairy,  the  two  buffalo  pens  of  the  village,  the  calf  enclo- 
sure, the  sacred  buffaloes,  the  ordinary  buffaloes,  the  sacred 
dairy  spring  of  the  village,  the  name  of  the  buffalo  whose  milk, 
according  to  their  myths,  was  the  origin  of  this  spring,  four 
hills  nearby,  some  buffaloes  believed  once  to  have  been  given  to 
the  tribe  by  the  goddess  Teikirzi  (an  important  event  in  Toda 
mythology),  and  the  calf  that  was  the  ancestor,  according  to 
the  myths,  of  some  of  the  present  ordinary  buffaloes.  After 
the  careful  repetition  of  these  Jcwarzam  in  so  low  a  tone  of 
voice  that  no  one  nearby  can  catch  these  sacred  words,  the 
dairyman-priest  rattles  off  the  main  body  of  the  prayer  which 
may  be  freely  translated  as  follows :  "May  it  be  well  with  the 
buffaloes,  may  they  not  suffer  from  disease  or  die,  may  they  be 
kept  from  poisonous  animals  and  from  wild  beasts  and  from 
injury  by  flood  or  fire,  may  there  be  water  and  grass  in  plenty." 
The  prayer  then  terminates  with  the  names  of  two  of  the  most 
important  gods  or  objects  of  reference  followed  by  the  words: 
"For  the  sake  of  them  for  us  may  it  be  well." 

The  Toda  prayers,  it  will  be  observed,  are  quite  remarkable 
in  one  respect.  They  are  not  addressed  to  any  superior  beings. 
Many  of  them  do  not  contain  the  names  of  such  beings  at  all, 
and  when  they  do,  these  are  mentioned  in  precisely  the  same 
manner  as  dairy  utensils,  trees,  springs  of  water,  dead  calves, 
and  cow  bells !  No  superior  being  is  addressed  in  the  vocative 
case.  This,  therefore,  raises  the  question — are  these  prayers 
or  are  they  magical  spells?  or  can  they  be  both  at  the  same 
time?  If  the  conception  of  religion  advocated  in  the  Introduc- 
tion of  this  book  be  accepted,  they  may  rightly  be  called 
prayers.  They  are  efforts  to  conserve  a  value  that  is  social, 


TODA  RELIGION  21 

and  of  the  utmost  concern  to  the  tribe.  And  they  are  efforts 
to  do  this,  not  by  ordinary  mechanical  means,  and  not  through 
human  efforts  alone.  The  invocation  or  utilization  of  some 
impersonal  supernatural  agency  that  would  be  psychical,  if 
the  natives  were  able  to  distinguish  clearly  in  their  thought 
between  psychical  and  physical,  is  apparently  implied.  Such 
prayers  may  also  be  styled  magical,  since  the  mere  repetition 
of  words  seems  efficacious,  without  the  intervention  of  a  spirit 
or  personal  being  of  any  sort.  It  may  be  that  the  Toda 
prayers  are  in  a  state  of  degeneration,  and  that  formerly  gods 
were  invoked,  or  it  may  be  that  they  are  undeveloped,  primor- 
dial prayers  that  have  not  yet  arrived  at  the  stage  at  which 
the  invocation  of  a  personal  agency  would  naturally  occur  to 
them.  If  with  Professor  Frazer,  Dr.  Marett,  Professor  Far- 
nell,  and  many  others  we  think  that  prayer  and  religion  in 
general  have  developed  from  magic,  we  shall  incline  to  the 
latter  view ;  if  with  Andrew  Lang  and  Dr.  F.  B.  Jevons  we  think 
that  the  spell  and  magic  in  general  are  degenerated  religion 
we  shall  take  the  former.  The  known  facts  in  regard  to  Toda 
prayers  as  reported  by  Mr.  Rivers  can  be  interpreted  with  equal 
plausibility  upon  either  view,  so  far  as  the  author  can  see. 

Among  Toda  rites  that  seem  clearly  to  imply  the  utilization 
of  an  impersonal  psychical  power  are  three  rudimentary  sacri- 
fices reported  by  Mr.  Rivers.  Fifteen  days  after  the  birth  of 
the  calf  of  a  sacred  buffalo  cow,  the  dairyman  priest  carefully 
prepares  a  mixture  of  milk,  rice,  salt  and  jaggery  according 
to  minute  ritualistic  prescriptions.  He  solemnly  throws  a  part 
of  this  food  upon  a  fire,  and  portions  out  the  rest  among  the 
people  gathered  before  the  dairy.  Before  this  ceremony  the 
cow  is  not  milked ;  henceforth  she  is  milked  like  the  rest  of 
the  herd.  This  ceremonial  preparation  and  partaking  of  food 
seems  to  remove  a  taboo — i.e.,  an  unknown  mysterious  power,  in 
this  case  dangerous — from  the  milk  of  the  cow  and  to  make  it 
safe  to  use  thereafter.  A  fully  developed  sacrifice  would  involve 
the  offering  of  a  portion  of  ceremonially  prepared  food  to  a 
supernatural  being  and  the  consumption  of  the  rest  of  it  by  the 
worshippers,  the  act  cementing  their  mystical  union  and  assur- 
ing social  welfare.  So  we  clearly  have  the  rudiments  of  a  sacri- 
fice in  this  case.  Several  times  a  year  a  young  male  calf 
is  killed  by  the  priest  in  accordance  with  ceremonial  prescrip- 
tions, roasted  by  him,  and  eaten  by  him  and  the  people  for 
the  purpose  of  promoting  the  general  welfare  of  the  people. 


22  DIFFERENTIATION 

This,  too,  seems  to  imply  the  utilization  through  the  ceremony 
of  mysterious  power  that  will  effect  the  desired  end,  else  there 
would  be  no  reason  for  performing  it.  It  therefore  may  be 
recorded  as  a  rudimentary  sacrifice.  Another  ceremony  is  per- 
formed to  promote  the  growth  of  grass  and  honey.  Two 
priests  make  a  fire,  and  while  it  is  burning  they  recite  the  ordi- 
nary prayers  of  a  Ti  dairy  with  this  addition  to  the  prayer 
proper:  "May  young  grass  flower;  may  honey  flourish;  may 
food  ripen."  The  Todas  feel  little  interest  in  this  ceremony 
now,  but  say  that  in  ancient  times  their  ancestors  lived  on 
wild  fruits,  nuts  and  honey,  and  it  was  then  important.  Here, 
it  is  to  be  observed,  religion  loses  its  interest  when  it  is  con- 
cerned with  values  which  a  tribe  no  longer  is  anxious  to  conserve. 

The  central  features  of  Toda  religion,  as  it  exists  to-day 
have  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  the  worship  of  gods.  Yet  the 
Todas  have  a  pantheon  of  deities  whose  names  they  seem  to  be 
forgetting.  Two  are  more  important  than  the  rest,  the  god 
On  and  the  goddess  Teikirzi.  The  present  Todas  cannot  cer- 
tainly remember  whether  these  two  are  father  and  daughter 
or  brother  and  sister.  On  and  his  wife  created  the  buffaloes, 
and  On  created  mankind.  There  is  no  longer  any  public  wor- 
ship of  them.  The  gods  seem  now  chiefly  to  be  used  for  rather 
questionable  purposes — divination  and  sorcery. 

A  sorcerer  can  bring  evil  upon  an  enemy  by  holding  in  his 
hands  a  bundle  consisting  of  five  small  stones  tied  together 
with  some  human  hair  in  a  piece  of  cloth  and  saying:  "For 
the  sake  of  Pithioten,  On,  Teikirzi  and  Tirshti,  (four  deities), 
by  the  power  of  the  gods  if  there  be  power ;  by  the  god'-s  coun- 
try if  there  be  a  country;  may  his  calves  perish;  as  birds  fly 
away  may  his  buffaloes  go  when  the  calves  come  to  suck ;  as  I 
drink  water,  may  he  also  have  nothing  but  water  to  drink ;  as 
I  am  thirsty  may  he  also  be  thirsty ;  as  I  am  hungry,  may  he 
also  be  hungry;  as  my  children  cry,  so  may  his  children  cry;  as 
my  wife  wears  only  a  ragged  cloth,  so  may  his  wife  wear  only 
a  ragged  cloth."  He  then  hides  the  stones  and  hair  secretly 
in  the  thatch  of  his  enemy's  hut. 

If  a  man  has  misfortune  he  will  consult  a  diviner.  Diviners 
correspond  to  our  spiritualistic  "mediums"  and  are  shady  folk, 
who  doubtless  work  in  collusion  with  the  sorcerers.  The  diviner 
falls  into  a  frenzy,  and  a  god  speaks  through  him,  and  gives 
the  man  in  trouble  information  ,as  to  the  cause  of  his  misfor- 
tunes. If  these  are  due  to  a  sorcerer,  the  man  learns  what 


TODA  RELIGION  23 

sorcerer  has  cursed  him,  gives  him  what  he  asks,  and  so  becomes 
reconciled  with  him.  The  sorcerer  then  repeats  another  incan- 
tation and  so  revokes  the  curse.  Such  evil  practices,  obviously 
having  blackmail  and  the  satisfaction  of  personal  enmity  as 
their  motives,  are  no  part  of  the  Toda  religion.  The  dairy- 
men priests  have  nothing  to  do  with  them.  They  are  anti- 
social; instead  of  conserving  socially  recognized  values,  they 
are  antagonistic  to  such  values.  They  are  as  clearly  magical 
as  they  are  non-religious.  Like  religion  they  involve  the 
invocation  of  some  kind  of  mysterious,  supernatural  power ;  but 
unlike  religion  they  seem  to  employ  this  power  in  a  manner  that 
is  not  conducive  to  the  general  welfare.  We  may  therefore  style 
them  instances  of  non-religious  magic. 

Ill — Lessons  from  Toda  Religion 

What  lessons  regarding  religion  may  we  learn  from  the 
Todas?  (1)  Religion  tends  to  center  about  the  conservation 
of  values  of  most  importance  at  the  present  time.  (2)  If  not 
sufficiently  connected  with  the  social  values  that  concern  a 
people,  even  gods  may  degenerate,  and  owe  their  survival 
chiefly  to  non-religious  purposes,  like  sorcery.  It  is  hard  to 
decide  whether  the  dairy  religion  once  was  connected  with  gods, 
but  now  has  been  divorced  from  them ;  or  whether  it  is  a  recent 
development,  instituted  to  conserve  a  new  value  not  conserved 
by  the  existing  gods,  and  not  yet  old  enough  to  have  developed 
gods  to  assist  in  its  conservation.  Personally  the  author  is 
inclined  to  the  latter  view ;  and  believes  with  Professor  Irving 
King  that  if  the  Todas  remain  long  enough  undisturbed 
they  will  develop  new  gods  in  connection  with  the  conservation 
of  what  is  now  their  most  important  value,  £.  But,  however  this 
may  be,  we  may  safely  conclude  (3)  that  religions  evolve  and 
change  their  objects  and  purposes  of  worship  as  the  values  in 
which  a  tribe  is  vitally  concerned  become  modified ;  and  (4)  that 
so  far  as  religious  ideas,  practises,  institutions,  and  even  gods 
fail  to  grow,  and  become  modified  as  the  vital  interests  of  a 
people  change,  they  are  bound  to  degenerate,  and  to  become  a 
positive  detriment.  Our  churches  and  synagogues  of  to-day 
may  learn  a  lesson  from  the  Todas  in  this  connection. 

The  real,  vital  religion  of  the  Todas  to-day,  the  dairy  ritual, 
is  an  attempt  to  conserve  their  most  important  values.  It 
actually  does  this  in  part,  though  not  as  the  Todas  imagine. 
The  milk  of  the  sacred  buffaloes  doubtless  is  kept  pure  and 


24  DIFFERENTIATION 

sanitary  through  the  prescribed  ritual,  though  probably  a 
great  deal  of  superfluous  energy  is  wasted  in  accomplishing 
this.  On  the  other  hand,  not  enough  care  is  probably  given 
to  keeping  the  milk  of  the  ordinary  buffalo  cows  pure.  There- 
fore (5)  when  religion  is  employed  to  conserve  a  concrete,  prac- 
tical value  of  a  material  sort  like  milk,  it  ought  to  be  super- 
seded by  science  whenever  the  latter  is  ready  to  undertake  the 
task.  In  this  sort  of  instance  we  shall  expect  to  find  that 
science  has  been  gradually  and  very  properly  supplanting 
religion.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  the  dairy  religion  is 
probably  conserving  for  the  Todas  still  more  important  values 
than  any  of  which  they  are  yet  fully  conscious.  It  is  making 
for  tribal  solidarity.  For  a  priest  to  be  a  public  servant  and 
to  be  devoting  himself  to  the  welfare  of  the  community,  as  he 
and  they  believe  he  is  doing,  is  bound  to  turn  their  thoughts 
ultimately  to  higher  and  better  things.  Insistence  on  ritual- 
istic purity  in  the  case  of  the  Hebrews  made  possible  later  on 
the  appreciation  of  moral  purity,  while  from  the  notion  of  the 
desirability  of  physical  cleanliness  about  the  domestic  hearth 
the  Greeks  learned  to  appreciate  the  moral  purity  of  the  home 
and  to  venerate  the  virgin  goddess  Hestia  who  conserved  this 
value  for  them.  Therefore  (6)  a  religion  may  actually  be 
conserving  different  and  higher  values  for  a  people  than  those 
which  they  consciously  endeavor  to  attain  through  it.  We 
must  always  ask,  not  only,  "What  does  a  people  consciously 
seek  in  their  religion?"  but  also  "What  benefits,  possibly  wholly 
different,  are  they  actually  receiving  from  it?"  and  too,  "May 
the  religious  rites  develop  consciousness  of  higher  moral  values 
in  the  -future,  as  a  people  rises  to  a  higher  civilization?" 
Although  the  present  social  value  of  a  religion  may  not  seem 
to  be  high,  we  should  inquire,  "May  it  be  furnishing  the  con- 
ditions out  of  which  a  real  appreciation  of  genuine  and  great 
moral  values  may  finally  develop  ?" 

IV — The  Melanesians.     Mana 

In  the  religious  practises,  both  of  the  natives  of  central 
Australia  and  of  the  Todas,  as  we  have  seeii,  there  seems  to  be 
implied  the  belief  in  some  sort  of  impersonal  agency  or  force 
that  is  utilized.  A  mystical  bond  must  exist  between  the  men 
and  the  animals  or  plants  of  a  totem  for  the  performances  of 
the  men  to  increase  the  supply  of  the  animals  or  plants.  Some 
mystical  agency  must  effect  the  physiological  growth  of  boys 


MANA  25 

into  men  in  the  case  of  the  initiation  ceremonies.  Some  efficacy 
not  of  a  purely  physical  sort  must  be  possessed  by  a  prayer 
recited  by  a  dairyman  priest  when  caring  for  his  cows.  In 
Toda  sorcery  the  names  of  gods  are  invoked,  but  there  seems 
to  be  lurking  in  the  bundle  of  stones  and  hair  charmed  by  the 
sorcerer  some  manner  of  impersonal  force  that  is  distinct  and 
separable  from  the  gods  whose  names  are  mentioned  in  the  curse. 
That  is,  it  hardly  seems  likely  that  the  gods,  by  any  personal 
thought  on  their  part,  cause  harm  to  come  to  the  man  that  has 
been  cursed ;  the  harm  comes  automatically  as  a  result  of  the 
curse. 

In  Melanesia  this  idea  of  impersonal  power  or  force  has  been 
developed  much  further  than  among  the  Australians  and  Todas, 
and  has  received  a  name, — mana.  It  is  impossible  to  give  a 
logical  definition  of  mana,  because  it  is  not  a  logical  concep- 
tion at  all.  Races  who  believe  in  mana  have  not  yet  learned  to 
think  in  well  developed  logical  categories,  3;  or  at  any  rate, 
they  have  not  applied  strict  logic  to  their  notion  of  mana.  If  a 
peculiar  stone  attracts  a  man's  attention,  he  may  think  there  is 
mana  in  it.  Its  shape  seems  to  resemble  fruit  of  a  particular 
kind.  He  lays  it  at  the  root  of  a  fruit  tree  of  this  sort.  If 
there  is  an  abundant  crop  this  shows  that  he  was  right ;  there 
is  mana  in  the  stone.  The  point  of  an  arrow  is  made  of  a  dead 
man's  bone,  and  tied  on  with  powerful  mana  charms,  which 
makes  it  sure  to  hit.  Human  sacrifices  used  to  be  made,  and 
little  bits  of  the  flesh  were  eaten  by  young  men  who  desired  to 
get  fighting  mana. 

Bishop  Codrington  says,  "The  Melanesian  mind  is  entirely 
possessed  by  the  belief  in  a  supernatural  power  or  influence, 
called  almost  universally  mana.  This  is  what  works  to  effect 
everything  which  is  beyond  the  ordinary  power  of  men,  outside 
the  common  processes  of  nature ;  it  is  present  in  the  atmosphere 
of  life,  attaches  itself  to  persons  and  to  things,  and  is  mani- 
fested by  results  which  can  only  be  ascribed  to  its  operation. 
.  .  .  But  this  power,  though  itself  impersonal,  is  always 
connected  with  some  person  who  directs  it ;  all  spirits  have  it, 
ghosts  generally,  some  men.  .  .  Thus  all  conspicuous  success 
is  a  proof  that  a  man  has  mana;  his  influence  depends  on  the  im- 
pression made  on  the  people's  mind  that  he  has  it ;  he  becomes  a 
chief  by  virtue  of  it.  Hence  a  man's  power,  though  political 
or  social  in  its  character,  is  his  mana;  the  word  is  naturally  used 
in  accordance  with  the  native  conception  of  the  character  of  all 


20  DIFFERENTIATION 

power  and  influence  as  supernatural.  If  a  man  has  been  suc- 
cessful in  fighting,  it  has  not  been  his  natural  strength  of  arm, 
quickness  of  eye,  or  readiness  of  resource  that  has  won  success ; 
he  has  certainly  got  the  mana  of  a  spirit  or  of  some  deceased 
warrior  to  empower  him,  conveyed  in  an  amulet  or  a  stone  around 
his  neck,  or  a  tuft  of  leaves  in  his  belt,  in  a  tooth  hung  upon  a 
finger  of  his  bow  hand,  or  in  the  form  of  words  with  which  he 
brings  supernatural  assistance  to  his  side.  If  a  man's  pigs 
multiply,  and  his  gardens  are  productive,  it  is  not  because  he 
is  industrious  and  looks  after  his  property,  but  because  of  the 
stones  full  of  mana  for  pigs  and  yams  that  he  possesses.  Of 
course  a  yam  naturally  grows  when  planted,  that  is  well  known, 
but  it  will  not  be  very  large  unless  mana  comes  into  play ;  a 
canoe  will  not  be  swift  unless  mana  be  brought  to  bear  upon  it, 
a  wind  will  not  catch  many  fish,  nor  an  arrow  inflict  a  mortal 
wound,"  4. 

Of  the  Melanesians,  Bishop  Codrington  says,  "The  notion 
of  a  Supreme  Being  is  altogether  foreign  to  them,  or  indeed 
of  any  being  occupying  a  very  elevated  place  in  their  world. 
.  .  .  There  is  a  belief  in  a  force  altogether  distinct  from 
physical  power,  which  acts  in  all  kinds  of  ways  for  good  and 
evil,  and  which  it  is  of  the  greatest  advantage  to  possess  and 
control.  This  is  mana.  .  .  .  It  is  a  power  or  influence,  not 
physical  and  in  a  way  supernatural;  but  it  shews  itself  in 
physical  force,  or  in  any  kind  of  power  or  excellence  which  a 
man  possesses.  .  .  .  All  Melanesian  religion  consists,  in 
fact,  in  getting  this  mana  for  one's  self,  or  getting  it  used  for 
one's  benefit — all  religion,  that  is,  as  far  as  religious  practices 
go,  prayers  and  sacrifices." 

Any  man  of  influence  and  power  is  successful  because  of 
mana.  Men  become  chiefs  because  they  are  credited  with  hav- 
ing much  mana  themselves,  and  with  being  able  to  secure  mana 
from  the  spirits.  A  man  who  was  famous  for  having  much 
mana  when  alive  will  be  worshipped  after  death  by  those  who 
hope  he  will  aid  them  with  his  mana.  An  ordinary  man  with- 
out much  mana  in  life  would  not  thus  be  honored.  In  the  Solo- 
mon Islands  the  chief  objects  of  worship  are  the  ghosts  of 
deceased  men  who  had  much  mana.  Bishop  Codrington  tells 
of  the  origin  of  the  worship  of  one  of  these.  Ganindo  was  a 
great  fighting  man  in  Florida.  On  a  head  hunting  expedition 
he  received  injuries  from  which  he  afterwards  died.  His  head 
was  carefully  preserved  and  a  house  built  for  it.  On7  a  subse- 


MANA  27 

quent  head  hunting  expedition  the  men  felt  their  canoe  rock 
under  them.  They  said,  "Here  is  a  tindalo"  (i.e.,  a  ghost  that 
is  worshipped  because  he  aids  with  mana.)  To  find  out  who  he 
was  they  called  successively  the  names  of  successive  tindalos. 
When  Ganindo's  name  was  called  the  canoe  shook  again.  In 
the  same  way  they  learned  what  village  they  were  to  attack. 
Retiring  successful,  they  danced  about  Ganindo's  house  sing- 
ing "Our  tindalo  is  strong  to  kill."  A  finer  temple  was  built 
for  Ganindo,  images  made  of  him  and  his  sisters,  his  relics  were 
reverently  preserved,  and  sacrifices  were  offered  to  him  for  many 
years,  until  finally  his  worship  declined  on  account  of  the 
advance  of  Christian  missionary  teaching,  5. 

Similar  conceptions  are  to  be  found  in  other  primitive 
religions  on  the  same  plane  of  development.  The  Pygmies  in 
Africa  have  a  similar  notion  of  oudah.  Among  North  Ameri- 
can Indian  tribes  there  are  words  with  similar  purport.  The 
Algonkin  term  is  manitou.  If  a  man  is  brave,  he  possesses  much 
manitou.  If  such  a  man  is  killed  by  his  enemies  they  will  eat 
his  heart  to  reinforce  their  own  manitou.  A  young  man  at  his 
initiation  retires  alone  for  long  fasting  and  meditation,  and  so 
obtains  manitou.  Among  the  Sioux,  waJconda  is  the  word. 
Wild  animals  that  are  swift,  fleety,  and  cunning  have  wdkonda. 
White  men  have  more  waJconda  than  the  Sioux;  that  is  why 
they  defeat  them  in  war.  Among  the  Iroquois  the  word  is 
orenda;  and  so  on,  6. 

Traces  of  the  conception  of  mana  are  to  be  found  among 
higher  civilizations.  Persons  who  believe  that  to  carry  a 
rabbit's  foot  is  going  to  bring  them  good  luck  probably  do  not 
attribute  the  good  luck  to  any  personal  agency  nor  do  they 
attribute  it  to  physical  causation  in  accordance  with  natural 
law.  If  such  persons  were  to  analyze  their  thoughts  (or  rather 
their  feelings  upon  the  subject  since  they  are  probably  too 
indefinite  to  be  called  thoughts)  would  they  not  affirm  the  con- 
viction that  some  vague  sort  of  force,  psychical  rather  than 
physical,  will  operate  beneficially  on  account  of  the  presence 
of  the  rabbit's  foot?  And  when  the  southern  European  peasant 
fancies  that  "luck"  will  come  to  him  because  he  is  wearing  some 
religious  emblem  that  has  been  bought  at  the  shrine  of  a  saint 
(without  thinking  that  God  or  the  saint  are  directly  and  con- 
sciously operating  in  his  affairs),  this  is  also  mana.  Other 
and  more  important  instances  of  the  probable  influence  of  the 


28  DIFFERENTIATION 

mana  notion  in  higher  religions  will  be  pointed  out  in  later 
chapters. 

V — Psychological  Explanation  of  MANA 
Mana  is  thus  a  very  indefinite  term.  It  is  associated  with 
human  beings  and  with  spirits,  and  yet  is  detachable  from  them. 
"It  leaves  in  solution  the  distinction  between  the  personal  and 
impersonal,"  as  Mr.  Marett  observes,  7.  It  is  not  certain  whether 
the  term  should  be  used  in  the  singular  or  plural  number,  that 
is,  whether  there  is  a  single  kind  of  impersonal  force  in  exist- 
ence, to  which  the  name  is  given,  or  an  indefinite  number  of 
them.  From  the  accounts,  the  author  would  suppose  the  latter 
more  likely.  It  is  quite  possible  to  give  a  psychological  expla- 
nation, however,  of  Melanesian  mana,  and  its  equivalents  among 
other  races. 

This  explanation,  as  the  author  believes,  is  threefold.  (1) 
Everyone  at  times  feels  the  presence  of  subconscious  impulses 
that  have  an  influence  upon  himself  and  which  he  cannot  under- 
stand. These  are  often  due  to  organic  conditions,  no  doubt. 
On  a  fresh  spring  or  autumn  day,  when  the  air  is  bracing  and 
our  nervous  system  responds,  we  feel  that  we  could  do  almost 
anything.  New  vigor  seems  to  be  coming  into  us  that  we 
did  not  know  we  possessed.  Thoughts  flash  through  our 
minds  that  appear  like  revelations.  Knowledge  that  we  did  not 
know  we  had  lies  ready  for  our  use.  Is  this  not  what  the 
savage  often  means  by  "having  mana"?  (2)  Ordinary  men 
find  that  they  have  increased  energy  of  mind  and  body  when 
in  the  society  of  a  leader  who  has  a  "strong  personality,"  or 
"great  natural  powers  of  leadership,"  as  they  say.  Through 
the  influence  of  such  a  leader  they  gain  increased  confidence  in 
themselves,  and  can  achieve  far  more  than  they  could  alone. 
The  leader's  beliefs,  sentiments,  powers  of  thinking,  and  above 
all,  his  courage  and  confidence,  spread  to  his  followers.  Na- 
poleon is  the  instance  that  first  occurs  to  the  mind ;  but  any 
great  captain  in  war  or  in  modern  industry  will  serve  as  an 
illustration.  Does  not  the  Melanesian  probably  have  such 
experiences  in  mind  when  he  says  that  chiefs  are  able  to  impart 
mana  to  their  followers  ?  (3)  A  group  of  persons  in  an  enthusi- 
astic meeting  engender  increased  emotion  of  all  sorts  in  one 
another.  This  may  well  seem  to  each  participant  to  be  energy 
that  he  receives  from  outside  of  his  own  mind  and  body.  He 
could  never  have  worked  himself  up  to  such  a  state  of  enthusi- 


PSYCHOLOGY  OF  MANA  29 

asm  and  conviction  alone.  The  energy  must  therefore  come  to 
him  from  without,  and  be  some  kind  of  external  force  that 
enters  into  him  on  such  occasions.  War  dances,  totemic  cere- 
monies, choric  festivals,  Bacchanalian  revels,  public  mournings, 
initiation  ceremonies,  each  may  well  seem  to  impart  its  different 
kinds  of  mana  to  the  individual  participants. 

Not  only  do  we  feel  such  psychic  force  at  the  time,  but 
it  may  continue  to  influence  us  afterward.  It  remains  a 
secret,  invisible  force,  stimulating  us  to  certain  actions, 
restraining  us  from  others.  All  primitive  men  are  to  a  very 
great  extent  the  slaves  of  customs.  What  Spencer  and  Gillen 
say  of  the  Australians  is  true  generally:  "As  amongst  all 
savage  tribes  the  Australian  native  is  bound  hand  and  foot 
by  custom.  What  his  fathers  did  before  him  he  must  do,"  8 
The  most  serious  offenses  in  savage  morality  are  those  against 
tribal  custom.  Often  no  reason  is  sought  or  thought  necessary 
for  a  prescribed  act  except  that  it  has  always  been  customary. 

If  the  savage  could  turn  philosopher  and  analyze  his  feel- 
ings, ne  would  probably  say  that  he  feels  that  custom  is  itself 
a  manifestation  of  some  actually  existing  impersonal  psychical 
force  that  impels  him  to  act  in  certain  ways  and  that  he  exper- 
iences the  pressure  of  this  force,  vehemently  restraining  him, 
whenever  he  has  any  impulse  to  transgress  the  laws  of  custom. 

The  savage,  therefore,  feels  spiritual  force  that  appears 
external  to  his  own  personal  consciousness  but  which  impels 
him  to  feel  and  to  act  differently  from  what  he  would  do  of 
his  own  initiative.  He  objectifies  this  force  and  thinks  of  it  as 
existing  in  the  external  world.  He  projects  it  into  animals, 
into  inanimate  objects,  into  the  ghosts  which  he  has  seen  in 
dreams  or  hallucinations,  indeed,  into  everything  that  attracts 
his  attention  and  appears  to  him  to  be  potent  and  otherwise 
unexplainable.  He  seeks  to  gain  more  of  this  force  for  himself 
in  order  to  increase  his  own  efficiency  physically  and  mentally. 
He  avoids  objects  that  are  "taboo,"  i.e.,  that  are  charged  with 
a  kind  of  mana  that  would  work  him  evil  if  he  tampered  with 
them.  To  gain  mana  that  will  conserve  his  values  becomes  the 
chief  end  both  of  his  magic  and  of  his  religion. 

VI — Is  There  any  Truth  in  the  Mana  Conception? 

Is  there  any  truth  in  the  mana  conception  at  all,  or  is  it 
purely  superstition  and  delusion?  Well,  that  it  contains  much 
of  these  latter  nobody  can  question  for  a  moment.  But,  if 


30  DIFFERENTIATION 

the  psychological  explanation  just  offered  be  correct,  it  at 
least  serves  to  call  attention  to  certain  profound  facts  that  it 
is  valuable  for  any  folk  to  take  account  of  and  be  able  to  employ 
in  their  needs.  Savages  through  mana  observances  learn  to 
draw  upon  their  subconscious  powers,  to  get  increased  strength 
from  their  leaders,  living  and  dead,  to  respect  the  force  (usually 
salutary)  of  social  custom  and  opinion.  So  certain  profoundly 
valuable  principles,  which  present  day  psychology  is  only  just 
beginning  to  understand,  are  made  to  some  extent  practically 
available  to  savages  through  the  mana  notion.  So,  mixed  with 
much  that  is  untrue  and  unwholesome,  the  mana  idea  crudely 
calls  to  the  attention,  and  makes  available  what  is  true  and 
useful.  Even  the  agnostic  and  the  atheist  must  therefore  admit 
that  there  is  some  truth,  for  the  savage,  in  the  mana  conception. 
In  the  opinion  of  the  believer  in  God,  the  mana  idea  contains 
still  further  truth.  For  he  believes  that  there  actually  is  a 
spiritual  Being  separate  from  human  minds,  whose  support  is 
available  to  men  through  worship.  To  him,  therefore,  the 
mana  conception  may  appear  to  be  an  early,  and  therefore 
necessarily  a  crude  manner  in  which  man  began  to  become  con- 
scious of  the  existence  of  God,  and  to  learn  to  gain  assistance 
from  Him.  To  say  this,  he  believes,  is  not  to  question  the 
correctness  of  the  psychological  explanation  of  mana  in  the 
least;  for  he  admits  that  it  is  largely  through  subconscious 
experiences  and  through  social  intercourse  that  the  individual 
becomes  aware  of  God  and  gains  help  from  Him. 

REFERENCES 

*W.  H.  R.  RIVERS,  The  Todas.     History  of  Melanesian  Society. 

*!RVING  KING,  Development  of  Religion,  Chap.  VI. 

*R.  H.  CODRINGTON,  The  Melanesians,  especially  Chap.  VII. 

*E.  S.  AMES,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experiences,  Chap.  VIII. 

*J.  B.  PRATT,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  pp.  310-316. 
R.  R.  MARETT,  The  Threshold  of  Religion. 
FREDERICK  SCHLEITER,  Religion  and  Culture,  Chap.  VII. 
W.  JONES,  ""The  Algonkin  Manitou,"  Journal  of  American  Folk  Lore, 
Vol.  XVIII   (1905). 

J.   N.   B.   HEWITT,  "Orenda  and  a  Definition   of   Religion,"   American 
Anthropologist,  n.  s.  Vol.  IV  (1902)  pp.  33-46. 
ANDREW  LANG,  Magic  and  Religion. 

F.   B.   JEVONS,  Idea  of  God  in  Early  Religions.      Introduction  to    the 
History  of  Religion. 

J.  G.  FRAZER,  The  Golden  Bough,  Vol.  I,  esp.  pp.  237-240. 

HASTING'S  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  articles  on  "mana"  (by 
Marett),  "Melanesians"  (by  Codrington),  and  "manitu"  (by  E.  Washburn 
Hopkins). 

*References  designated  by  asterisks  are  recommended  to  beginners. 


CHAPTER  IV 

RELIGION    DIFFERENTIATED 
I — The  Baganda 

As  representative  of  savage  religion  after  it  has  become  a 
fully  differentiated  human  interest  with  specialized  institutions, 
we  may  properly  select  the  Baganda  for  study.  This  central 
African  tribe,  situated  in  Uganda,  just  west  of  Lake  Victoria 
Nyanza,  directly  upon  the  Equator,  possesses  all  the  different 
forms  of  savage  religious  worship.  Sixty  years  ago  the  tribe 
is  believed  to  have  had  a  population  of  three  million  people. 
They  had  a  well  developed  social  and  political  organization, 
and  were  skillful  in  agriculture,  cattle  raising,  and  warfare. 
They  may  be  regarded  as  considerably  farther  advanced  in 
most  forms  of  culture  than  the  Australians,  the  Todas,  and 
the  Melanesian  races.  We  are  fortunate  in  possessing  accurate 
information  of  the  Baganda  before  their  institutions  had  be- 
come modified  to  any  considerable  extent  by  white  influence, 
through  the  careful  anthropological  investigation  made  by 
the  Reverend  John  Roscoe,  1,  who  was  among  them  for  twenty- 
five  years,  and  who  profited  by  the  counsel  of  Professors  Frazer 
and  Rivers  and  other  Cambridge  anthropologists. 

The  objects  of  Baganda  religious  worship  belong  to  four 
classes:  (1)  gods,  national  and  local;  (2)  fetiches;  (3) 
amulets;  (4)  ghosts,  of  kings  and  of  ordinary  people.  As 
there  are  different  native  words  for  each  of  these,  and  they 
seem  quite  distinct  in  the  natives'  minds,  judging  from  Mr. 
Roscoe's  reports,  this  may  be  regarded  as  the  classification 
of  the  natives  themselves. 

II — Gods 

Each  of  the  national  gods  had  one  or  more  temples  attended 
bv  priests  to  carry  on  the  worship,  and  by  mediums  to  reveal 
the  god's  will. 

The  god  of  highest  rank  was  Mukasa.  He  is  a  benign  god 
who  never  requires  human  sacrifices,  has  nothing  to  do  with 
war,  and  seeks  to  heal  the  bodies  and  minds  of  men.  He  is  the 

31 


32  RELIGION  DIFFERENTIATED 

god  of  plenty;  food,  cattle  and  children  come  from  him.  As 
god  of  the  lake  (Victoria  Nyanza)  he  controls  storms,  grants 
safe  passage  to  travelers,  and  gives  fish  and  other  products  to 
men.  His  chief  temple  was  fine  and  important,  and  was  reserved 
for  the  worship  of  the  king  and  one  or  two  leading  priests. 
Smaller  temples  to  him  were  numerous,  where  ordinary  people 
could  go  for  worship.  Large  gifts  and  sacrifices  were  made  to 
him  annually  by  the  king  in  behalf  of  the  state,  and  by  indi- 
viduals from  time  to  time,  and  attached  to  his  temples  were 
large  and  wealthy  estates.  The  legends  say  that  he  was 
the  son  of  Wanema  and  Nambubi  (ordinary  people  of  the  tribe 
apparently).  These  legends  are  so  detailed  that  it  seems  clear 
that  he  must  have  been  an  actual  historical  person,  who  was 
revered  during  his  lifetime  on  account  of  his  wisdom  and  benevo- 
lence, and  who  afterwards  developed  into  a  god.  The  chief 
wife  of  Mukasa  was  the  goddess  Nalwanga,  whose  temple  stood 
near  his.  She  was  said  originally  to  have  been  a  pythoness, 
and  so  we  may  conjecture  that  she  is  a  development  from  totem- 
istic  or  animistic  belief,  and  not  from  an  actual  historical 
human  being.  Her  chief  function  was  to  assist  women  in  child- 
birth ;  but,  as  was  the  case  with  the  other  goddesses,  her  influ- 
ence was  much  less  than  that  of  the  principal  gods.  A  people 
may  to  some  extent  be  measured  by  their  deities.  That  the 
Baganda  have  been  capable  of  divine  beings  so  attractive  in 
many  ways  as  Mukasa  and  Nalwanga  is  decidedly  to  their 
credit. 

The  next  god  in  importance  to  Mukasa  was  Kibuka,  the  god 
of  war,  who  foretold  when  war  would  take  place,  and  gave 
oracles  regarding  military  movements  during  a  campaign. 
One  of  his  representatives  always  attended  an  army,  to  reveal 
the  god's  counsels.  Kings  and  powerful  chiefs  were  continually 
offering  him  slaves,  and  his  priesthood  was  very  rich.  Pris- 
oners captured  in  war  were  sacrificed  to  him,  being  speared  or 
clubbed  to  death.  On  special  occasions,  like  the  dedication  of 
a  new  temple,  if  other  victims  were  not  available,  innocent  and 
inoffensive  people  might  be  captured  on  the  highways  and  sacri- 
ficed to  him. 

It  is  worth  while  to  mention  several  of  the  other  national  gods, 
to  indicate  the  wide  variety  of  values  which  the  Baganda  sought 
to  conserve  through  gods.  Kaumpuli,  the  god  of  plague, 
dwelt  in  a  deep  hole  in  his  temple,  which  was  securely  covered 
to  keep  him  from  escaping  and  leaving  the  country.  This  hole 


THE  BAGANDA  33 

could  only  be  effectually  covered  by  means  of  wild  cat  skins, 
and  hundreds  of  these  little  animals  were  needed  every  year  for 
the  purpose.  It  was  the  duty  of  his  priests  to  cleanse  houses 
and  gardens  where  plague  had  broken  out  and  to  treat  and 
nurse  the  sick.  Musisi  was  responsible  for  earthquakes.  He 
was  said  to  dwell  in  the  center  of  the  earth  and  to  cause  earth- 
quakes when  he  moved  about.  When  there  were  earth  tremors, 
those  who  had  his  fetiches  near,  patted  them,  and  asked  the 
god  to  keep  quiet.  He  was  not  much  consulted  by  the  people, 
but  requested  to  keep  quiet.  These  two  gods  are  perhaps 
objects  of  fear  which  it  is  necessary  to  propitiate;  they  are 
hardly  objects  of  reverence  and  devotion  like  Mukasa  and 
Kibuka,  and  there  do  not  seem  to  be  the  rich  variety  of  legends 
connected  with  them.  They  are  less  anthropomorphic,  but  they 
clearly  represent  values  of  concern  to  the  tribe.  There  was 
also  Nagawonyi  who  was  thought  to  be  able  to  end  drought  or 
famine  by  her  influence  with  the  gods  who  controlled  the 
elements  and  so  was  appealed  to  in  times  of  scarcity.  Offerings 
were  made  by  the  king  at  the  bidding  of  the  other  gods,  to 
Walumba,  the  god  of  death,  to  prevent  his  killing  the  people 
wholesale.  The  souls  of  the  dead  had  to  go  to  his  residence 
and  give  an  account  of  their  deeds,  after  which  they  were  free 
to  return  to  their  own  clans  and  resume  their  ordinary  habitat 
near  the  graves  where  their  bodies  were.  A  great  variety  of 
other  concrete  values  were  associated  with  various  other  deities, 
among  whom  the  god  of  the  chase  was  perhaps  most  important. 
There  seem  to  have  been  gods  connected  closely  with  some  of 
the  totems,  e.g.,  the  Leopard,  Heart,  and  Grasshopper  totems. 
About  Katonda,  "the  father  of  the  gods,"  who  was  said  to  have 
created  all  things,  little  was  known.  Offerings  of  cattle  were 
sometimes  made  to  him,  and  he  had  a  small  temple  and  a  medium 
who  gave  oracles,  but  he  received  comparatively  little  honor  or 
attention.  As  is  commonly  the  case  in  Africa,  attention  is 
given  to  gods  connected  with  immediate  wants  or  material 
objects  close  at  hand,  and  not  with  a  god  who  probably  owes 
his  origin  merely  to  intellectual  curiosity  about  the  origin  of 
things. 

Besides  these  national  gods  there  were  many  local  spirits  of 
different  kinds.  Every  river,  for  instance,  had  a  spirit  credited 
with  powers  for  good  and  evil.  Many  hills  were  thought  dan- 
gerous, because  they  were  guarded  by  the  ghosts  of  wild  animals 


34  RELIGION  DIFFERENTIATED 

such  as  lions  and  leopards.    There  are  also  various  gods  of  the 
forests. 

Ill — Fetiches 

Fetiches  were  manufactured  objects  supposed  to  possess 
supernatural  powers  for  averting  evil  and  bringing  good  to 
their  possessors.  Every  house  would  have  a  supply  of  them, 
and  offerings  of  food  and  drink  were  regularly  made  before 
them.  Fetiches  were  also  made  to  wear  upon  the  person,  or 
carry  about  with  one.  Some  were  entire  horns  of  antelopes  or 
buffaloes,  or  the  tips  of  horns,  filled  by  the  medicine  men  with 
herbs  and  clay,  and  the  open  end  stopped  and  sometimes  decor- 
ated with  pieces  of  brass  or  iron.  "The  horns  were  thought  to 
have  become  vehicles  of  the  god  by  whose  name  they  were  called, 
and  whose  powers  they  were  supposed  to  convey  to  those  who 
owned  them,"  and  the  medicine  with  which  they  were  filled  con- 
veyed "the  powers  of  the  god"  in  addition  to  their  ordinary 
curative  properties  as  drugs,  2.  (In  other  words,  I  think  we  may 
say,  a  fetich  contains  mana  of  the  god  whose  name  it  bears.) 
Mere  possession  of  a  fetich  was  thought  to  ward  off  evil  from 
a  house  and  bring  blessing  upon  it.  There  were  various  kinds 
of  fetiches.  The  fetich  Nambaga  insured  the  recovery  of  sick 
persons.  Zinga  was  the  fetich  of  thieves,  who  would  carry  it  in 
a  leather  case  with  them,  and  thereby  be  rendered  invisible  to 
the  people  they  meant  to  rob.  Luboa  was  used  by  hunters  and 
warriors  to  cast  a  spell  over  wild  animals  or  human  enemies 
and  make  them  powerless  to  attack,  while  at  the  same  time  it 
served  the  owner  and  made  his  aim  sure.  Sometimes  the  owner 
of  this  fetich  would  make  a  feast  in  its  honor ;  a  fowl  would  be 
killed,  the  blood  of  its  tongue  would  be  spilled  on  the  fetich, 
and  the  bird  be  cooked  and  eaten  by  the  warrior  and  his  friends 
in  the  presence  of  the  fetich. 

The  king's  fetiches  were  more  elaborate,  and  some  of  them 
were  personified,  and  so  were  much  more  like  gods  than  ordinary 
fetiches.  Mbajwe,  for  instance,  had  a  temple,  priest,  and 
female  medium,  and  a  woman  who  was  regarded  as  the  fetich's 
wife.  This  fetich  was  made  of  rope,  like  a  serpent,  with  clay 
to  imitate  the  serpent's  head.  Sometimes  the  king  sent  pris- 
oners to  this  fetich  for  trial.  One  prisoner  would  act  as  spokes- 
man for  the  rest,  and  try  to  clear  himself  and  his  party,  but 
the  medium  who  was  possessed  by  the  fetich  would  reply,  "It  is 
so"  after  the  statements  of  each  charge,  and  the  fetich  invar- 
iably found  the  prisoners  guilty,  and  they  were  accordingly 


AMULETS  35 

put  to  death.  Nantaba,  a  gourd  stitched  in  a  piece  of  goat  skin 
and  decorated  with  cowry  shells  and  beads,  and  Semwina,  a 
stout  stick  cut  with  elaborate  ceremonial,  were  prepared  at  the 
accession  of  a  king  by  his  paternal  grandmother's  clan.  Both 
stick  and  gourd  had  temples  and  women  guardians,  and  were 
used  in  ceremonies  attended  by  the  king's  wives.  Offerings  of 
food  and  beer  were  made  to  the  fetiches  and  prayers  were 
addressed  to  them  for  fertility.  Among  the  king's  other  fetiches 
were:  Kizinga,  which  was  sent  with  the  army  to  ensure  much 
spoil  in  women  and  cattle;  Mbagirangese,  which  the  king 
handed  to  any  person  whom  he  was  about  to  put  to  death,  since 
it  gave  the  king  power  over  the  ghost  of  the  person  about  to  be 
killed  so  that  it  could  not  return  and  haunt  the  king;  and 
Sekabemba,  which  the  king  gave  secretly  to  a  man  commissioned 
by  him  to  rob  the  rich  chiefs  and  share  the  plunder  with  him. 

The  fetiches  of  the  Baganda  are  not  so  anthropomorphic  as 
the  gods,  and  have  few  myths  and  legends  centering  about  them. 
It  would  appear  possible,  however,  that  some  of  these  fetiches, 
which  have  temples  and  mediums,  are  well  on  the  way  to  become 
gods.  All  of  them  seem  clearly  to  imply  the  notion  of  mana, 
and  all  conserve  values  that  are  socially  recognized  by  the 
natives,  morally  questionable  as  certain  of  these  values  would 
be  from  the  point  of  view  of  civilized  man. 

IV — Amulets 

Amulets  were  made,  as  a  rule,  of  wood,  and  never  received 
offerings  or  supplications.  They  were  manufactured  and  sold 
by  the  medicine  men,  to  be  carried,  or  worn  on  the  person,  and 
were  often  made  into  ornaments.  An  amulet  was  efficacious  for 
one  purpose  only — to  heal  or  prevent  some  particular  disease ; 
or,  in  the  case  of  women,  to  effect  fecundity.  Some  amulets 
were  for  personal  application ;  they  would  be  rubbed  on  a  stone 
or  scraped  with  a  knife,  and  the  powder  thus  obtained  might 
be  mixed  with  water  or  beer  and  taken  internally,  or  it  might 
be  mixed  with  butter  and  applied  to  the  skin  outwardly. 

V — Ghosts 

Probably  in  the  course  of  ordinary  life  the  Baganda  more 
often  were  in  intimate  relationship  with  ghosts  than  with  gods. 
The  ghosts  of  deceased  kings  were  honored  by  temples  where 
their  jaw  bones  and  umbilical  cords  were  carefully  preserved, 
and  where  through  mediums  the  deceased  king  made  revelations 


36  RELIGION  DIFFERENTIATED 

concerning  the  State  and  advised  the  living  king ;  warning  him, 
for  instance,  when  war  was  likely  to  break  out.  "When  the 
medium  was  under  the  influence  of  the  ghost  he  spoke  in  the 
same  tone  and  used  the  same  expressions  as  those  which  the 
late  king  had  been  accustomed  to  use,"  3.  "It  was  an  excep- 
tionally great  day  when  the  reigning  king  went  to  visit  the 
temple  of  his  predecessor;  thousands  of  people  assembled  to 
witness  the  sight  and  to  hear  the  oracle.  When  the  king  had 
left  the  temple,  and  was  being  conducted  back,  he  invariably 
gave  an  order  to  catch  everyone  who  had  not  passed  a  certain 
place  which  he  mentioned ;  the  order  was  given  suddenly,  and 
the  body-guard  promptly  carried  it  out,  capturing  and  binding 
all  whom  they  could  lay  hands  on,  if  they  had  not  passed  the 
spot  indicated  by  the  king.  The  captives  were  taken  back  to 
the  temple  and  slain  within  its  precincts,  in  order  that  the 
ghosts  might  minister  to  the  late  king's  ghost,"  4. 

The  ghosts  of  common  people  were  honored,  but  in  smaller 
measure.  Small  shrines  were  built  near  the  graves  of  the 
deceased,  where  relatives  placed  offerings  of  beer  or  clothing. 
The  majority  of  ghosts  were  beneficient  and  assisted  the  mem- 
bers of  the  clan  to  which  they  belonged.  (Savages  have  human 
feelings,  and  it  seems  safe  to  infer  from  accounts  of  other 
African  races  that  the  recently  bereaved  derive  real  comfort 
from  their  belief  that  their  dead  are  interested  in  them,  and  are 
pleased  with  their  offerings,  and  can  give  them  counsel  and 
assistance.) 

Human  sacrifices  were  common.  Kibuka,  as  we  have  seen, 
and  several  of  the  other  gods  and  fetiches  regularly  de- 
manded them,  and  it  was  believed  that  calamities  would  come 
upon  the  nation  if  they  were  not  offered.  There  was  a  sacrifi- 
cial place  where  persons  guilty  of  incest  or  adultery  were 
often  clubbed  or  speared  to  death.  "Those  who  have  taken  part 
in  these  executions  bear  witness  how  seldom  a  victim,  whether 
man  or  woman,  raised  his  voice  to  protest  or  appeal  against 
the  treatment  meted  out  to  him.  The  victims  went  to  death 
(so  they  thought)  to  save  their  country  and  race  from  some 
calamity,  and  they  laid  down  their  lives  without  a  murmur  or 
a  struggle,"  5.  Here  it  will  be  observed,  religion  seems  to  be 
beginning  to  conserve  moral  values  by  demanding  the  execution 
of  wrong  doers  in  order  to  prevent  national  calamity ;  it  also, 
however,  still  demands  the  sacrifice  of  wholly  innocent  persons 


MAGIC  37 

when  others  are  not  available  in  order  to  satisfy  the  gods' 
thirst  for  blood.  Sacrifices  of  both  sorts  are  for  the  public 
benefit,  and  so  are  believed  to  conserve  social  welfare. 

VI — Magic 

Medicine  men  in  addition  to  furnishing  amulets  for  medicinal 
purposes,  were  skilful  in  sorcery  and  divination.  Enemies  could 
be  cursed,  injured,  or  killed  by  the  use  of  magic.  For  instance, 
one  might  "take  a  fowl,  dig  a  hole  in  the  path  leading  to  the 
man's  house,  kill  the  fowl  there,  let  the  blood  run  into  the  hole, 
cut  off  the  fowl's  head  and  bury  it  with  the  blood ;  he  would 
then  ask  the  gods  to  bless  his  medicine,  and  make  it  work  death 
to  his  enemy.  The  enemy,  unconscious  of  the  trap,  would  walk 
over  it,  and  in  a  few  days'  time  he  would  fall  ill  and  die,"  6. 
Sympathetic  magic  was  greatly  feared,  and  if  an  enemy  were 
to  get  hold  of  any  of  one's  cut  or  loose  hairs,  nail  parings  or 
spittle,  it  was  thought  that  he  could,  by  means  of  magic,  com- 
pass one's  death.  Pestilence  could  be  averted  by  the  offering 
of  a  "scapegoat,"  viz.,  by  taking  a  woman  and  a  child 
together  with  domestic  animals  into  the  country  from  whence 
it  came,  and  there  breaking  their  limbs  and  leaving  them  to  die 
a  lingering  death.  The  disease  would  thus  have  been  trans- 
ferred to  the  country  from  which  it  came.  Diseases  could  be 
magically  transferred  from  individuals  to  animals,  or  to  other 
persons,  in  a  similar  manner. 

In  all  such  practises,  can  we  not  perceive  the  mana  concep- 
tion? Some  mysterious  power  can  be  brought  into  play  upon 
persons,  or  be  transferred  from  persons  and  things  through  the 
proper  technique.  Such  practises,  when  for  the  public  welfare, 
like  the  aversion  of  a  plague,  may  be  regarded  as  both  magical 
and  religious;  they  are  cases  in  which  the  medicine  man  or 
priest  is  acting  on  behalf  of  the  public,  probably  at  the  king's 
command.  When,  however,  an  individual  makes  use  of  magic 
for  his  own  private  advantage  or  to  satisfy  a  private  grudge, 
his  action  is  not  an  attempt  to  conserve  a  socially  recognized 
value,  and  is  not  religious. 

VII — The  Conservation  of  Values  in  the  Religion  of  the 

Baganda 

In  the  case  of  the  Baganda  we  observe  a  savage  religion 
which  has  become  a  distinctly  differentiated  interest  and 
activity,  with  priests,  temples,  sacrifices,  gods,  fetiches,  amulets, 


38  RELIGION  DIFFERENTIATED 

spirits,  and  ghosts,  through  all  of  which  endeavor  is  made  to 
secure  the  conservation  of  socially  recognized  values.  Through 
the  gods,  the  king's  fetiches,  and  the  ghosts  of  former  kings, 
there  are  attempts  to  conserve  national  values — abundant  crops 
and  animal  food,  victory  in  war,  deliverance  from  earthquake 
and  pestilence,  counsel  as  to  measures  for  the  public  safety, 
and  the  like. 

Nor  are  the  private  needs  of  the  individual  and  the  localized 
needs  of  the  family  overlooked  in  this  religion.  Individuals 
may  go  to  Mukasa's  temples,  and  make  offerings  and  prayers 
for  fish,  for  children,  and  for  the  satisfaction  of  other  private 
wants  that  are  of  little  or  no  national  concern,  yet  are  socially 
recognized  "values,  i.e.,  values  that  the  public  generally  would 
approve  of  an  individual  seeking  to  conserve.  The  fetiches 
kept  in  the  home,  and  fetiches  worn  on  the  person  are  also 
employed  in  the  endeavor  to  conserve  socially  recognized  values 
that  concern  the  private  family  or  the  individual.  The  same 
is  true  of  the  worship  of  the  ghosts  of  its  own  deceased  members 
by  the  living  members  of  the  family. 

Objectifications  of  the  religious  agency,  like  gods,  fetiches, 
and  ghosts,  furnish  concrete  imagery  and  serve  to  fixate  the 
attention.  They  therefore  doubtless  strengthen  the  faith  of  the 
worshipper.  In  this  way  they  clearly  represent  a  psychological 
advance  over  the  religions  of  the  central  Australians  and  of 
the  Todas.  A  further  advance  that  is  both  psychological 
and  moral  may  be  noted  in  the  case  of  spirits,  ghosts  and  gods. 
Since  these  are  personal,  anthropomorphic  beings,  it  is  possible 
to  attribute  to  them  human  emotions  and  sympathies.  Through 
them,  therefore,  more  intimate  and  personal  values  can  be 
conserved.  Deceased  kings  can  be  thought  to  feel  a  vital 
personal  interest  and  sympathy  in  the  nation's  welfare.  Gods 
may  not  be  expected  to  feel  so  personal  an  interest  as  deceased 
kings ;  but  more  power  and  sublimity  can  be  attached  to  them ; 
what  is  lost  in  personal  sympathy  is  compensated  for  by 
increased  power  and  ability  to  help.  In  like  manner,  it  is  natural 
to  believe  that  deceased  members  of  the  family  are  interested 
in  its  welfare,  and  conservation  is  sought  of  very  human 
values  indeed ; — comfort  to  those  in  bereavement,  the  opportu- 
nity to  share  a  feast  with  one's  dead,  and  to  get  advice  and 
assistance  from  them.  It  is  easy  to  see  why  most  savage 
peoples  make  much  of  ancestral  worship,  and  why  the  latter 


VALUES  CONSERVED  39 

often  persists  even  in  advanced  civilizations  such  as  those  of 
China  and  Japan. 

What  are  the  real  values  actually  conserved  by  the  Baganda 
religion?  Is  there  a  genuine  advance  beyond  the  less  developed 
religions  that  have  been  considered  in  previous  chapters  ?  The 
answer  must  on  the  whole  be  in  the  affirmative.  To  be  sure, 
there  is  nothing,  so  far  as  the  author  knows,  in  any  other 
savage  religion  quite  so  fine  in  its  moral  appeal  to  the  growing 
youth  as  the  Australian  initiation  ceremonial.  But  the  differ- 
entiated religious  worship  of  the  Baganda  seems  undoubtedly 
to  afford  a  far  more  effective  machine  for  conserving  the  values 
which  the  nation  knows,  for  the  reasons  mentioned  in  the  pre- 
ceding paragraph.  It  undoubtedly  makes  for  solidarity,  and 
constitutes  a  powerful  factor  in  the  evolution  of  social  con- 
sciousness, both  in  the  nation  and  in  the  family.  The  conduct 
of  all  savages  when  they  have  reached  the  warlike  stage  of  the 
Baganda,  appears  more  repulsive  in  many  ways  than  the  sim- 
pler, more  humane  morality  of  less  developed  folk  like  the 
Arunta.  However,  warfare  appears  to  have  been  a  necessary, 
though  stern  and  cruel,  discipline  through  which  every  race 
that  has  become  civilized  has  had  to  pass.  The  lessons  of  self- 
sacrifice  and  obedience,  including  loyalty  to  one's  clan  to  the 
death,  if  need  be,  seem  an  essential  preliminary  to  the  develop- 
ment of  equitable  government,  of  national  public  spiritedness 
and  patriotism,  of  willingness  to  self-sacrifice  and  social  service. 
In  Borneo  travellers  find  the  bloodthirsty  head-hunters  more 
hospitable,  more  brave,  energetic,  manly,  and  truthful,  more 
chaste,  and  kind  to  women  and  children,  and  in  other  ways 
more  morally  attractive  than  their  milder  and  less  warlike 
but  more  cowardly,  treacherous,  dishonest  and  unchaste  neigh- 
bors, 7.  The  Romans  in  ancient  times  and  the  British  in  modern 
times,  nations  descended  from  mixtures  of  unusually  warlike 
stocks,  have  been  pre-eminently  successful  in  the  development, 
both  of  law  and  government,  and  also  in  an  impartial  love  for 
justice.  This  is  one  reason  why  they  have  become  capable  of 
administering  fairer  and  more  sympathetic  rule  to  alien  races 
than  the  latter  could  independently  obtain  for  themselves. 
The  Chinese  and  Hindu  races  whose  ancestors  were  less  warlike 
or  remained  less  long  in  the  warlike  stage,  and  whose  religions 
of  peace  have  had  fuller  sway  and  dominance,  have  not  devel- 
oped these  sides  of  moral  character  to  an  equal  extent,  fine 
as  has  been  their  moral  development  in  other  respects.  So  we 


40  RELIGION  DIFFERENTIATED 

may  well  forgive  the  Baganda  their  devotion  to  the  war  god, 
Kibuka,  and  their  cruel  human  sacrifices.  British  rule  now, 
no  doubt,  has  abolished  them.  We  may  trust  that  they  have  ful- 
filled their  purpose,  and  that  white  administrators  have  found 
for  the  Baganda  less  inhuman  ways  by  which  they  now  conserve 
their  socially  recognized  values. 

REFERENCES 

*JOHN  ROSCOE,  The  Baganda,  especially  Chap.  IX. 
*MARY  H.  KINGSLEY,  West  African  Studies.     Travels  in  West  Africa. 
*DUDLEY  KIDD,  The  Essential  Kafir. 

A.  B.  ELLIS,  The  Tshi-speaking  Peoples  of  the  Gold  Coast.     The  Ewe- 
speaking  Peoples  of  the  Slave  Coast.     The    Yoruba-speaking   Peoples   of 
the  Slave'  Coast. 

A.  G.  LEONARD,  The  Lower  Niger  and  Its  Tribes. 
MEROME  Down,  The  Negro  Races,  Chapters  XXIII-XXVII. 
J.    G.    FRAZER,    Totemism    and    Exogamy,    Vol.    II,    pp.    463-513    (The 
Baganda).  ....    . 

CHARLES  HOSE  and  WILLIAM  MCDOUOALL,  tThe  Pagari  Tribes  of  Borneo, 
Vol.  II,  Chapters  XIII-XVII. 

R.  E.  DENNETT,  At  the  Back  of  the  Black  Man's  Mind. 
See  also  references  to  the  two  preceding  chapters, 


CHAPTER  V 

DEFINITION  OF  RELIGION.  RELATION  OF  RELIGION 
TO  OTHER  HUMAN  ACTIVITIES 

I — Purpose  of  the  Definition 

THE  purpose  of  the  present  chapter  will  be  to  set  forth  a 
definition  of  religion  based  upon  its  psychological  character- 
istics. While  the  preceding  chapters  and  the  one  immediately 
following  are  concerned  with  primitive  religions,  it  will  be  best 
to  make  the  definition  of  religion,  now  to  be  set  forth,  inclusive 
both  of  primitive  religions  and  of  higher  religions.  The  defini- 
tion will  thus  serve  both  as  a  summary  of  the  ground  already 
covered,  and  as  an  introduction  to  that  yet  to  be  traversed 
in  the  volume  as  a  whole.  The  definition  now  to  be  attempted 
must  be  purely  descriptive —  a  characterization  of  religion  as 
it  has  been  and  is.  It  will  in  no  sense  be  normative,  or  define 
what  religion  ought  to  be,  1.  The  definition  must  be  broad 
enough  to  cover  all  types  of  religion,  and  yet  clear  cut  enough 
to  differentiate  religion  from  related  activities  liable  to  be  con- 
fused with  it,  such  as  animism  and  magic  in  the  case  of  primitive 
religions,  and  morality,  art,  and  science  in  advanced  religions. 
Later  chapters  will  throw  some  light  upon  what  religion  may  be 
at  its  best,  and  what  we  should  seek  to  make  it. 

II — Genus  of  the  Definition 

A  logical  definition  begins  by  stating  some  genus  or  larger 
class  to  which  the  term  defined  belongs.  The  genus  of  which 
religion  is  an  instance  is  that  of  endeavor  to  secure  the  conser- 
vation of  socially  recognized  values. 

Let  us  carefully  scrutinize  each  of  the  separate  expressions 
in  this  genus.  "Values,"  as  the  preceding  chapters  have  taught 
us,  in  the  case  of  primitive  religions  are  very  concrete,  material, 
practical — such  things  as  food,  water,  protection  from  storms, 
victory  in  war,  posterity,  counsel  what  to  do  in  important 
crises  in  human  affairs.  In  the  ethical  religions,  as  we  shall 
see  in  later  chapters,  man  is  more  self-conscious,  and  reflective, 
and  possesses  deeper  moral  insight,  2.  Ethical  religions  are 

41 


42  DEFINITION  OF  RELIGION 

accordingly  chiefly  concerned  with  such  values  as  purity  of 
heart,  forgiveness  of  sins,  virtue,  and  other  goods  of  an  inner, 
spiritual  nature  that  refer  more  to  the  mental  and  moral  states 
of  the  worshipper  than  to  outward  physical  conditions. 

One  characteristic  applies  to  all  the  values  of  both  natural 
and  ethical  religions.  The  values  are  all  "socially  recognized." 
That  is,  they  are  either  values  that  are  recognized  by  many 
persons,  if  not  by  all,  to  concern  the  welfare  as  a  whole  of  the 
social  group  (family,  totem,  tribe,  nation),  or  else  they  are 
values  recognized  to  be  morally  right  and  proper  for  individuals 
to  seek  for  their  own  benefit.  Victory  in  war,  deliverance  from 
pestilence  or  famine,  and  counsel  regarding  important  decisions 
that  must  be  made  by  the  group  are  obviously  matters  of 
general  public  concern,  and  endeavor  may  be  made  to  conserve 
them  through  religion.  The  same  is  true  of  the  efforts  of  a 
family  to  maintain  solidarity  with  its  deceased  members,  leading 
it  to  share  delicacies  of  food  with  them,  to  seek  the  repose  of 
their  souls,  to  ask  their  counsel,  and  to  endeavor  to  avert  their 
wrath. 

The  individual  is  far  less  conscious  of  himself  as  an  indi- 
vidual among  savages  than  among  civilized  nations ;  for  there 
is  less  specialization  of  industries  and  fewer  differences  in  social 
position;  custom  determines  the  conduct  of  everyone  in  most 
matters  and  leaves  comparatively  little  room  for  personal 
choice.  But  of  course  even  savages  have  private  wants,  a  man 
desires  vengeance  upon  an  enemy,  or  a  woman  desires  to  bear 
a  son.  Such  values  may  be  socially  recognized.  They  are  not 
matters  of  public  concern  to  any  great  extent;  but  the  man 
has  been  unfairly  treated,  and  his  friends  would  like  to  see  him 
victorious  over  the  man  who  wronged  him ;  it  is  a  great  happi- 
ness for  a  woman  to  be  a  mother,  and  the  barren  wife  is  pitied. 
Such  values  are  socially  recognized  in  the  sense  of  our  definition. 
So  we  may  readily  see  how,  among  the  Baganda,  for  instance, 
such  persons  might  seek  these  goods  for  themselves  by  making 
little  gifts  to  their  fetiches  at  home  or  by  bringing  larger 
offerings  to  the  gods  at  the  temples.  But  if  a  man's  private 
vengeance  would  be  inimical  to  the  public  welfare,  if  it  would 
promote  feuds  and  dissensions  where  united  action  is  necessary, 
he  would  not  be  seeking  socially  recognized  values.  He  could 
not  seek  the  aid  of  religion,  and  would  have  to  go  to  sorcerers 
and  other  shady  folk  for  supernatural  assistance  in  carrying 
out  his  anti-social  act. 


No  one  can  make  a  religion  for  himself  any  more  than  he 
can  devise  a  language  of  his  own ;  religion  is  a  slow  development 
of  group  life  and  common  experiences.  The  values  which  it 
endeavors  to  conserve  are  therefore  necessarily  values  which 
are  socially  recognized,  although  not  necessarily  values  of 
social  concern  or  importance.  In  ethical  religions  prevailing 
among  civilized  nations  with  more  pronounced  individualism, 
more  private  needs  are  recognized  than  is  the  case  in  the  natural 
religions;  but  this  does  not  invalidate  the  definition. 

Religion  is  an  "endeavor  to  secure  the  conservation  of 
socially  recognized  values."  "Conservation"  is  intended  in  a 
wide  sense  of  the  word.  It  includes  quantitative  increase  of  the 
object  that  is  of  value,  in  the  case  of  food,  rain,  and  other 
material  goods.  It  also  includes  enhancement  or  intensification 
of  the  value,  especially  in  the  case  of  more  spiritual  goods — 
such  as  bravery,  loyalty,  purity  of  heart,  social  solidarity, 
sense  of  divine  presence  and  support,  and  the  like.  In  this 
sense,  values  are  often,  though  the  author  thinks  not  always 
or  necessarily,  "raised  to  a  higher  power  of  themselves," — to 
use  a  phrase  of  Professor  Coe's,  3.  By  saying  that  "religion  is 
an  endeavor  to  secure  the  conservation  of  socially  recognized 
values,  instead  of  more  simply,  that  it  is  an  endeavor  to  conserve 
them,  it  is  implied  that  the  religious  act — sacrifice,  prayer,  or 
whatever  it  be — does  not  endeavor  directly,  of  itself  to  effect 
the  desired  result,  but  that  it  seeks  to  do  so  through  the  medium 
of  a  particular  kind  of  agency,  later  to  be  described. 

"Religion  is  an  endeavor  to  secure  the  conservation  of 
socially  recognized  values."  The  flendeavor"  need  not  be 
successful.  Often,  indeed,  especially  in  savage  religions,  we 
perceive  it  to  be  wholly  futile,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Australian 
ceremonies  to  secure  rain  and  to  increase  the  food  supply. 
.The  practise  of  religion  always  involves  a  minimum  of  faith, 
or  confidence  in  the  efficacy  of  the  religious  act,  enough  to 
make  it  seem  worth  while  to  try  to  secure  the  result  in  that  way. 

Religion  is  primarily  a  matter  of  activity  of  some  kind  or 
other ;  it  is  volitional  in  its  nature,  a  conation,  the  expression 
of  desire  for  some  sort  of  a  value.  It  is  a  mistake  to  over- 
emphasize the  significance  of  the  overtly  emotional  or  intellectual 
phases  of  religion  which  are  all  incidental  to  the  carrying  out 
of  this  endeavor.  Mystic  trance  and  rapture,  with  their 
heightened  emotional  intensity,  myth  and  dogma  with  their 
intellectual  explanations,  law  and  ritual  with  their  prescrip- 


44  DEFINITION  OF  RELIGION 

tions  regarding  conduct,  are  all  manners  in  which  the  religious 
endeavor  manifests  itself,  and  must  be  regarded  rather  as  the 
fruits  or  expressions  of  religion  than  as  fundamental  properties 
in  terms  of  which  it  can  be  defined. 

Ill — The  Differentia 

The  genus  which  has  just  been  set  forth — "the  endeavor  to 
secure  the  conservation  of  socially  recognized  values" — is  broad 
enough  to  include  everything  that  ought  properly  to  be  called 
religion.  It  is  an  adequate  genus.  Under  this  genus,  however, 
much  that  is  not  religion  is  also  included, — some  phases,  at 
least,  of  magic,  science,  art,  morality,  and  law.  The  definition 
must  therefore  be  completed  by  a  differentia,  which  will  delimit 
the  field  of  religion  from  the  other  forms  of  endeavor  to  secure 
the  conservation  of  socially  recognized  values  that  are  not 
religious. 

In  the  case  of  religious  endeavor  the  conservation  of  values 
is  always  sought  through  a  specific  and  peculiar  kind  of  agency, 
and,  the  attitude  toward  this  agency  is  of  a  definite  sort.  In) 
the  case  of  the  natives  of  Australia  and  of  the  Toda  dairy 
ritual  we  have  seen  that  some  sort  of  impersonal  agency  appears 
to  be  implied  in  their  conduct,  though  the  agency  has  not  yet 
received  a  name.  Melanesians  and  North  American  Indians 
we  also  saw,  have  given  this  agency  a  name — mana,  manitou, 
ejbc.  The  Baganda  have  identified  this  agency  with  a  variety  of 
objects — with  gods,  with  ancestral  ghosts,  with  nature  spirits, 
with  fetiches  half  animate  and  half  inanimate,  and  with  amulets 
that  are  wholly  inanimate.  The  agency  in  none  of  these  cases 
is  physical.  It  differs  from  the  operations  of  ordinary  natural 
objects  as  they  go  on  of  themselves  apart  from  the  presence 
of  mana,  spirits,  and  other  influences  which  are  akin  to  human 
mental  experiences. 

Among  primitive  religions  the  agency  sought  to  be  evoked 
may  be  simply  mana,  attributed  to  or  identified  with  any  of 
the  objects  mentioned.  In  higher  religions  the  agency  is  more 
refined  than  mana,  and  is  more  moral  in  its  character.  It 
remains  some  sort  of  spiritual  power  that  is  sometimes  thought 
directly  to  modify  the  external  world  as  in  the  collects  for  rain 
and  dry  weather ;  but  as  reflective  man  becomes  more  discrimi- 
nating, it  is  regarded  rather  as  reinforcing  the  individual's  own 
personality  and  so  making  him  more  efficient.  Professor 
Leuba's  investigations  reveal  the  interesting  fact  that  there 


DIFFERENTIA  45 

are  educated  Americans  to-day  with  very  deep  religious  feelings 
who  pray  and  know  that  they  feel  spiritual  reinforcement,  in 
consequence,  and  yet  are  not  at  all  sure  that  this  is  not  due 
wholly  to  the  influx  of  energy  from  the  sub-conscious  mental 
and  physical  resources  of  their  own  organisms,  4.  Even  in  this 
case,  however,  spiritual  reinforcement  is  entering  the  indi- 
vidual^ consciousness  from  a  source  that  appears  to  him  to  be 
external  to  his  own  conscious  waking  self  at  that  time;  it  in 
that  sense,  at  least,  comes  from  without  his  "ego."  In 
exceptional  as  well  as  in  typical  religious  experiences,  a  specific 
action  of  some  sort  is  requisite  to  evoke  the  agency — sacrifice, 
spell  and  incantation,  prayer,  or  meditation.  The  religious 
act  is  a  distinct  act  of  the  worshipper's  consciousness,  enlisting 
in  his  service  an  agency  other  than  what  at  that  time  he 
identifies  with  his  "ego,"  i.  e.,  his  conscious  self. 

While  living  human  beings  have  fairly  often  become  objects 
of  worship,  the  most  famous  instances  being  Egyptian  kings 
and  Roman  emperors,  such  persons  have  always  been  regarded 
as  superhuman  or  supernatural  in  some  sense,  or  as  divinities,  5. 
Man  refuses  to  worship  his  fellow  man  as  such. 

Moreover  the  attitude  felt  by  the  religious  worshipper  is 
unique  in  some  respects.  It  is  as  Schleiermacher  expressed 
it,  "a  feeling  of  absolute  dependence."  If  the  source  of 
the  agency  is  personal, — a  deceased  ancestor  or  friend,  a 
nature  spirit,  a  saint,  a  hero,  a  god,  or  God, — this  feeling 
may  be  one  of  fear  or  awe,  of  love  or  affection,  and  will  very 
likely  be  of  all  these  combined  into  a  sentiment  of  loyalty  and 
reverence,  obligation  and  aspiration.  As  religions  evolve,  the 
tendency  is  for  the  sentiment  toward  the  personal  object  of 
religious  devotion  to  become  enriched,  enlarged,  and  enhanced. 
If  the  source  of  the  agency  is  impersonal,  or  is  not  distinguished 
from  the  agency  itself,  it  is  still  possible  to  discover  a  mental 
attitude  of  dependence  quite  different  from  that  felt  toward 
purely  physical  nature.  The  Australian  native  has  not  discrim- 
inated between  the  agency  and  its  source,  nor  has  he  given  a 
name  to  either,  yet  he  feels  spiritually  impressed  and  uplifted 
as  a  result  of  initiation  or  intichiuma  ceremony,  and  he  can  be 
said  to  be  dependent  upon  the  ceremony  in  this  feeling.  Such 
an  attitude  is  quite  different  from  his  feeling  toward  any 
merely  physical  object  of  value  to  him.  While  in  the  purer 
forms  of  the  Buddhist  religion,  the  Buddha  personally  plays 
no  part  in  the  efficacy  of  the  religious  exercises  through  which 


46  DEFINITION  OF  RELIGION 

man  may  attain  salvation,  the  attitude  toward  these  exercises 
is  different  from  that  which  would  be  felt  toward  any  physical 
or  mental  gymnastics  performed  in  a  non-religious  way  for 
the  good  of  body  or  mL^l.  The  attitude  in  this  religion  implies, 
a  feeling,  if  not  of  love  or  awe,  at  least  of  dependence  upon  the 
ceremony  that  affords  increase  of  spiritual  power.  It  implies 
that  the  world  order  is  essentially  just  and  moral.  It  is  note- 
worthy that  worshippers  often  tenderly  place  flowers  before 
the  picture  or  image  of  the  Buddha,  who  first  revealed  to  man 
the  way  of  salvation.  The  readiness  with  which  this  homage 
to  the  Buddha  has  developed  in  the  less  pure  forms  of  the 
religion  into  downright  worship  of  him  as  well  as  of  gods  and 
Boddhisattvas,  shows  that  Buddhism  in  its  purely  atheistic 
form  fails  fully  to  satisfy  the  human  impulse  to  develop  senti- 
ments of  love  and  loyalty  to  the  source  of  spiritual  power 
gained  through  religion. 

While  it  is  hard  to  devise  an  expression  that  will  apply  to 
all  the  different  religious  attitudes  that  have  been  manifested 
in  human  history,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  they  all  imply  a  very 
different  feeling  than  is  present  in  industrial  or  scientific 
pursuits  or  in  magical  activities  of  a  non-religious  sort.  In  the 
case  of  the  latter,  objects  are  manipulated  or  exploited  to  gain 
valuable  results,  but  the  feeling  is  certainly  not  one  of  depend- 
ence in  the  sense  in  which  the  term  is  here  intended.  A  farmer 
may  feel  economically  dependent  upon  the  soil  and  rain  for 
the  growth  of  his  crops,  just  as  a  clerk  may  feel  dependent 
on  his  salary,  but  this  is  a  different  kind  of  dependence.  The 
feeling  of  dependence  in  religion  is  more  akin  to  the  dependence 
which  man  feels  toward  other  human  beings  who  may  help  or 
harm  him,  and  this  feeling  is  present  in  religion,  even  in  the 
cases  where  the  religious  agency  is  not  attributed  to  or  identified 
with  a  personal  being. 

Science  and  industry  and  the  love  of  knowledge  also  differ 
fundamentally  from  religion  in  their  attitudes  and  purposes. 
Science  and  industry  are  interested  in  the  mechanical  exploita- 
tion of  nature.  Nature  is  inert  and  passive;  so  man  may 
manipulate  nature  for  industrial  purposes,  or  observe  it  to 
ascertain  the  regular  succession  of  phenomena  which  he  may 
describe  in  the  "laws  of  natural  science."  The  religious 
attitude,  on  the  other  hand,  is  always  a  feeling  of  dependence 
toward  the  agency  in  a  manner  that  implies  love,  fear,  or  other 
human  emotions  never  manifested  in  the  same  way  in  science 


COMPARATIVE  RELIGION  47 

or  industry.  The  love  of  knowledge  for  its  own  sake  in  the 
case  of  the  primitive  religions  gives  rise  to  myths,  and  in  the 
higher  religion  to  philosophy  and  theology.  These  last  may 
be  and  often  are  utilized  by  religion  to  assist  it  in  carrying 
out  its  efforts.  But  they  are  always  used  by  religion  as  means 
of  an  incidental  sort.  So  far  as  they  strengthen  piety,  well  and 
good.  But  they  are  only  aids  to  help  man  to  understand  what 
he  believes  in  his  religion.  The  moment  a  man  criticizes  them 
from  purely  intellectual  interest,  he  is  passing  from  the 
religious  attitude  to  a  distinctly  secular  and  non-religious 
standpoint.  Philosophy  and  science  owe  much  in  their  origin 
to  religion ;  but,  before  they  advance  far,  they  always  become 
independent  interests. 

The  differentia  of  religion  has  now  been  explained.  It  has 
been  shown  how  religion  differs  from  other  attempts  to  secure 
the  conservation  of  socially  recognized  values.  The  definition 
as  a  whole,  including  both  genus  and  differentia,  is  therefore 
this: — Religion  is  the  endeavor  to  secure  the  conservation 
of  socially  recognized  values  through  specific  actions  that  are 
believed  to  evoke  some  agency  different  from  the  ordinary  ego 
of  the  individual,  or  from  other  merely  human  beings,  and  that 
imply  a  feeling  of  dependence  upon  this  agency,  6. 

IV — Comparative  Religion 

This  definition  suggests  two  ways  in  which  religions  may 
readily  be  compared  with  one  another  for  purposes  of  study. 
(1)  We  may  compare  their  ends,  i.  e.,  we  may  examine  the 
different  types  of  socially  recognized  values  which  they  endeavor 
to  conserve.  How  primitive  religions  differ  from  ethical 
religions  in  this  respect  has  already  been  indicated.  All  the 
ethical  religions  emphasize  much  the  same  moral  precepts  for 
the  conduct  of  everyday  life, — they  are  unanimous  in  enj  oining 
truthfulness,  regard  for  property  rights,  chastity,  honor  of 
parents,  forgiveness  of  enemies,  and  the  like.  To  this  extent 
the  socially  recognized  values  of  the  ethical  religions  are 
similar.  But  the  ethical  religions  differ  greatly  in  their  inter- 
pretation of  the  meaning  of  life  as  a  whole,  of  what  philosophers 
would  call  the  highest  good.  While  it  is  not  easy  to  formulate 
the  highest  good  taught  by  each  of  the  higher  religions  so  as 
to  include  the  views  of  all  of  its  thoughtful  adherents,  each 
in  a  general  sense  has  a  distinctive  ethical  standpoint.  The 
attitude  toward  life  of  the  philosophical  Brahman  is  markedly 


48  DEFINITION  OF  RELIGION 

different  from  that  of  the  primitive  Buddhist,  and  both  are  still 
more  unlike  the  Confucian,  the  Jew,  and  the  Christian. 

(2)  We  may  compare  the  different  means  employed  by  the 
various  religions  for  the  purpose  of  securing  these  ends,  of 
conserving  the  values  which  they  esteem.  From  this  standpoint 
a  religion  is  an  instrumentality,  a  mode  of  procedure  used  for 
various  ends.  Each  religion  has  its  threefold  technique: — 
(a)  its  ritual  including  sacrifices  and  prayers;  (b)  its  myths 
and  its  dogmas  and  other  intellectual  explanations  why  this 
ritual  is  necessary  and  how  it  works;  (c)  its  own  institutional 
organisation  for  carrying  on  its  ritual,  teaching  its  intellectual 
formulations  and  for  handing  both  down  to  the  next  generation. 
The  comparative  study  of  liturgies,  mythologies,  theologies, 
systems  of  ecclesiastical  organisation,  of  canon  law,  and  of 
ecclesiastical  architecture  all  come  under  the  head  of  technique ; 
for  they  are  all  products  that  have  developed  in  the  course  of 
endeavoring  to  secure  the  conservation  of  socially  recognized 
values.  They  must  thus  be  regarded  if  they  are  kept  in  the 
right  perspective.  To  make  comparative  religion  almost 
exclusively  a  study  of  myths,  dogmas,  or  rituals,  is  to 
exaggerate  the  real  significance  of  these  features  of  religious 
technique. 

V — Religion  and  Animism 

The  connection  between  primitive  religion  and  animism  has 
often  been  misunderstood,  and  it  is  necessary  to  indicate  how  the 
two  are  related  from  the  standpoint  of  the  definition  of  religion. 
Animism  is  a  term  introduced  by  the  late  Professor  Tylor  in  his 
famous  Primitive  Culture,  one  of  the  most  important  works  of 
the  last  generation  upon  the  anthropological  side  of  religion. 
The  truth  in  "animism"  seems  to  be  that  many  savages  believe 
that  all  objects  about  them  to  which  their  attention  is  called,  are 
either  alive  or  are  inhabited  by  spirits.  A  tree,  a  mountain,  a 
river,  the  sea,  the  sky,  even  a  stone  or  a  blade  of  grass  are 
regarded  as  animate.  Not  all  of  these  objects,  or  the  spirits 
which  he  believes  inhabit  them,  may  be  of  religious  concern  to  the 
savage.  The  Tshi  of  the  west  African  coast,  for  instance,  pay 
little  attention  to  spirits  of  bushes,  grasses,  and  stones,  since 
these  are  not  powerful  and  could  do  them  little  good  or  harm ; 
but  they  are  deeply  concerned  with  the  spirits  of  rivers  and 
lagoons,  of  the  sea  and  the  mountains.  When  the  spirit  is  dis- 
tinguished from  the  material  object,  and  thought  to  inhabit  it,  it 


ANIMISM  49 

is  supposed  to  be  able  to  leave  it  temporarily  or  permanently. 
The  spirits  of  men  wander  in  their  dreams  from  the  places 
where  their  bodies  lie  sleeping.  The  West  African  natives  think 
a  man's  dream  soul  sometimes  becomes  lost  under  such  circum- 
stances, and  the  services  of  a  medicine  man  are  required  to 
effect  its  recovery,  7.  The  Australian  ghosts  remain  in  the 
vicinity  of  their  churinga,  which  may  be  found  when  the  ghost 
is  again  to  be  born  a  living  member  of  the  tribe.  The  souls 
of  the  human  dead  are  thought  to  pass  into  the  bodies  of 
animals,  or  to  inhabit  trees,  stones,  fetiches  or  whatever  objects 
may  appeal  to  their  fancy.  Among  the  Niger  tribes  it  has 
been  reported  that  such  ancestral  ghosts  wish  to  remain  with 
the  tribe,  and  if  a  tribe  is  forced  to  migrate,  it  carefully  takes 
the  fetiches  inhabited  by  ghosts  with  it,  and  invites  ghosts 
who  dwell  in  trees,  rocks  and  other  immovable  objects  to  enter 
portable  fetiches  that  the  tribe  may  carry  away  with  them,  8. 
Savages  very  often  believe  both  in  nature  spirits  which  never 
were  human  beings,  but  are  the  "souls"  of  various  physical 
objects  about  them  that  attract  their  attention  and  inspire 
their  awe,  and  ghosts,  the  souls  of  deceased  human  beings  and 
animals.  It  is  convenient  to  reserve  the  word  "spirits"  to 
designate  the  nature  spirits,  and  to  use  "ghosts"  to  designate 
the  deceased  men  and  animals.  Many  anthropological  writers 
have  adopted  this  usage. 

While  animism  is  a  very  general,  perhaps  almost  universal 
belief  among  savages,  few  contemporary  writers  believe  that 
religion  originated  in  animism.  The  natives  of  Central 
Australia,  as  we  have  seen,  have  a  good  many  animistic  beliefs 
and  they  also  have  religious  practices,  but  the  latter  are  not 
connected  with  the  former  to  any  extent.  The  Toda  dairy 
ritual  bears  no  relation  to  their  animistic  beliefs.  The  Baganda 
gods  are  probably  all  to  be  regarded  as  developments  from 
nature  spirits  and  ancestral  human  or  animal  ghosts,  but  not 
all  of  their  fetiches  seem  to  be  animistic.  And  so  one  could 
go  on  with  other  savage  peoples  and  find  that  animism,  while 
often  connected  with  religious  beliefs,  is  by  no  means  universally 
so  connected. 

The  universal  characteristic  of  religion,  as  we  have  seen,  is 
the  belief  in  a  peculiar  sort  of  agency  that  can  be  utilized  to 
conserve  values.  This  agency  may  or  may  not  be  referred 
to  a  personal  source.  If  it  is  referred  to  a  personal  source 
we  shall  find  animism  associated  with  religion.  If  spirits  or 


50  DEFINITION  OF  RELIGION 

ghosts  are  thought  to  possess  mana  it  will  be  natural  for  man 
to  seek  to  get  on  good  terms  with  them  so  that  they  will  impart 
mana  to  him.  So  we  may  say  that  religion  may  or  may  not 
seek  to  conserve  its  values  through  mana  imparted  by  spirits 
or  ghosts,  and  so  may  or  may  not  be  animistic.  Likewise 
animistic  beliefs  may  exist  in  a  tribe  quite  apart  from  its 
religion,  or  they  may  be  features  of  the  religion.  Neither 
religion  nor  animism  necessarily  involves  the  other.  But  if 
animistic  beliefs  are  prominent  in  the  minds  of  savages  we  may 
expect  them  sooner  or  later  to  color  their  religion.  That 
would  be  natural  enough.  If  man  thinks  that  there  are  powerful 
spirits  and  ghosts  about,  he  will  sooner  or  later  seek  to 
conciliate  them.  But  this  is  only  one  of  the  ways,  and 
apparently  not  the  original  way  in  which  man  sought  to 
conserve  values  through  religion. 

The  origin  of  animistic  beliefs  needs  not  greatly  to  concern 
us  here.  Religion  and  animism  have  had  independent  origins. 
However,  a  few  words  may  be  said  upon  the  subject.  The 
psychology  of  animism  is  really  very  simple,  and  does  not 
require  such  elaborate  explanations  as  are  often  advanced  for 
it.  Animals  react  to  men  and  other  animals  in  a  different 
manner  than  to  inanimate  objects,  as  Professor  Leuba  has 
pointed  out,  9.  The  animal  does  not  have  animistic  beliefs 
because  he  possesses  few  or  no  free  images  and  ideas  and  his 
consciousness  is  confined  to  immediate  perception;  we  might 
say  that  he  has  no  animistic  beliefs  because  he  has  no  beliefs 
at  all.  The  minds  of  savages  have  developed  to  the  point  where 
free  images  and  ideas  are  abundant,  but  they  do  not  have 
perfect  logical  control  over  them,  so  that  the  images  and  ideas 
which  they  have  derived  from  animate  objects  sometimes 
become  fancifully  associated  with  inanimate  objects.  Whatever 
appears  novel  or  irregular  or  unexplanable  suggests  the  ideas 
of  living  objects,  and  hence  appears  alive.  Dreams,  hallucina- 
tions, hysteria,  epilepsy,  the  departure  of  the  breath  at  death, 
and  like  phenomena  may  have  suggested  that  what  makes  a 
thing  alive  is  something  separable  from  it,  and  so  the  notion 
of  souls  as  distinct  from  the  bodies  which  they  inhabit  may 
well  have  arisen. 

To  think  that  things  are  alive,  or  that  they  have  mana  in 
them  involves  very  little  reflection;  to  attribute  souls  to  such 
objects,  but  separable  from  them,  seems  to  involve  reflection 
and  may  be  due  to  inferences  based  on  observation  of  such 


MAGIC  51 

phenomena.  There  is  therefore  nothing  particularly  strange 
or  problematical  about  the  origin  of  animism.  It  is  the  most 
natural  thing  in  the  world  for  savages  as  well  as  children 
to-day  to  misapply  their  categories  of  the  animate  and 
inanimate,  and  to  suppose  things  to  be  alive  that  to  their 
imperfect  observation  and  knowledge  do  not  appear  to  act 
with  mechanical  uniformity.  This  is  not  so  much  due  to  a 
confusion  of  the  categories  in  the  sense  that  the  difference 
between  the  conceptions  of  animate  and  inanimate  is  unclear, 
as  to  lack  of  experience  in  bringing  objects  under  these  two 
classes. 

VI — Religion  and  Magic 

The  distinction  between  religion  and  magic,  and  their 
relation  to  each  other  is  fundamentally  important.  We  have 
noticed  various  religious  ceremonies  which  contain  magical 
elements.  The  initiation  and  intichiuma  ceremonies  of  Central 
Australia  are  magical  in  that  they  are  supposed  to  effect 
physiological  changes  in  the  boys,  to  promote  the  growth  of 
plants  and  animals,  and  to  cause  rain  to  fall.  .The  Toda  dairy 
man's  prayers,  addressed  to  no  one,  are  clearly  .magical  spells 
whose  efficacy  is  due  to  their  repetition.  It  appears  to  be 
impossible  to  formulate  a  logical  definition  of  magic  that  will 
at  all  give  a  clear  conception  of  what  it  means  to  the  savage, 
because  he  does  not  think  in  logical  terms  so  far  as  he  employs 
magic.  An  utterly  illogical  conception  cannot  be  defined 
logically.  It  is  better  therefore  simply  to  describe  different 
types  of  magic. 

Many  instances  of  magic  involve  the  notion  that  what  is 
done  to  an  object  that  has  come  into  some  close  personal  contact 
with  a  person,  or  has  been  a  portion  of  his  body,  will  affect 
the  person  himself.  If  the  sorcerer  can  get  hold  of  anyone's 
nail  parings  or  hair  clippings  he  can  work  injury  upon  the 
person  himself.  If  a  weapon  that  has  made  a  wound  be  heated, 
the  wound  will  remain  inflamed ;  if  the  weapon  is  kept  clean, 
bandaged  and  poulticed,  the  wound  will  rapidly  heal  without 
festering.  This  is  called  "sympathetic"  or  "contagious"  magic. 
Another  type  is  "imitative"  magic,  in  which  there  is  in  some  way 
an  imitation  of  the  effect  sought.  For  instance,  many  rain 
making  ceremonies  all  over  the  world  imitate  the  dropping  of 
water  to  the  ground  by  pantomime  or  picture.  Many  of  the 
Australian  intichiuma  ceremonies  are  instances  of  imitative 


52 

magic.  Men  of  the  kangaroo  totem  dress  themselves  up  to 
look  like  kangaroos,  and  step  like  them  during  the  ceremony 
of  their  totem;  the  men  of  the  frog  totem  imitate  frogs  in 
their  ceremony ;  and  so  on.  It  is  a  common  belief  in  the  savage 
world  that  an  enemy  can  be  destroyed  by  making  a  wax  figure 
of  him  and  melting  it,  or  sticking  pins  into  it.  Many  instances 
of  magic  cannot  be  brought  under  either  of  these  two  heads, 
and  can  only  be  said  vaguely  to  involve  the  notion  that  powers 
and  influences  exist  in  things  and  may  be  made  to  pass  over 
into  other  things.  Thus  sins  may  be  loaded  on  a  scape  goat, 
and  driven  away  with  the  latter  into  the  wilderness ;  a  tooth- 
ache can  be  nailed  into  a  tree ;  by  eating  a  tiger's  heart  a  man 
may  become  brave;  a  barren  fruit  tree  must  be  male,  and  can 
be  made  female  and  productive  by  putting  a  woman's  petticoat 
upon  it,  10. 

All  cases  of  magic  involve  the  notion  of  mana,  or  some  sort 
of  impersonal  power  that  may  be  manipulated  by  correct 
procedure.  The  psychological  explanation  of  the  origin  of 
magic  is,  the  author  thinks,  three- fold,  11.  First,  it  begins  with 
natural  and  spontaneous  expressions  of  emotion.  A  man  is 
angry  at  his  distant  enemy  and  hacks  at  trees  or  anything 
that  may  stand  in  his  way,  just  as  he  would  hack  at  the  man 
himself  if  he  could  get  at  him.  This  is  a  very  human  state  of 
emotion  which  all  of  us  have  experienced  at  times.  The  women 
of  the  Hindu  Kush,  when  the  men  are  on  a  raid,  get  together 
and  dance  day  and  night.  This  may  well  have  begun  as  a 
natural  expression  of  emotion.  These  women  were  excited, 
could  not  work  in  the  fields  as  usual,  and  came  together,  and 
whiled  away  the  time  by  dancing.  Secondly,  by  association  of 
ideas,  a  person  frequently  or  habitually  performs  the  action 
which  expresses  his  emotion  when  aroused ;  this  seems  almost 
a  necessary  part  of  the  action.  The  Hindu  Kush  women  hear 
the  men  planning  another  raid.  They  think  to  themselves — 
"We  must  get  together  and  dance."  A  raid  has  become 
habitually  associated  in  their  minds  with  a  dance.  Thirdly,  the 
logical  fallacy  of  post  hoc,  ergo  hoc  completes  the  evolution 
of  the  magical  powers.  The  women  danced  while  the  men  went 
on  a  raid,  and  the  men  were  successful.  Therefore  it  is 
concluded  that  the  men  were  successful  because  the  women 
danced.  Accordingly  it  becomes  an  established  custom  that  the 
women  must  dance  to  ensure  the  success  of  raids.  An  Esquimo 
whose  tribe  had  been  unsuccessful  in  hunting  and  were  on  the 


MAGIC  53 

verge  of  starvation  started  out  on  a  hunt,  gnawing  at  the 
ham  bone  of  a  dog.  He  was  immediately  successful  in  captur- 
ing a  seal.  Thereafter  he  always  took  along  a  hambone  of  a 
dog  when  he  went  hunting,  12.  Such  associations  of  ideas  and 
casual  inference,  obviously  fallacious  as  they  are,  none  the  less 
are  very  human,  and  the  superstitions  common  among  civilized 
people  today  have  originated  in  much  this  way.  The  only 
reason  why  all  of  us  are  not  such  firm  believers  in  magic  as 
savages  is  on  account  of  the  influence  of  logic,  philosophy, 
and,  above  all,  of  the  natural  sciences.  These  insist  on  excep- 
tions as  carefully  as  instances  that  agree  with  a  notion,  and 
critically  examine  all  beliefs  and  reject  those  that  are  grounded 
merely  upon  custom,  habit,  and  emotional  prejudices.  Magic 
persists  longer  in  religion  than  in  other  fields  of  organized 
human  activity  just  because  man  is  more  reluctant  to  apply 
critical  reasoning  to  religion,  feeling  that  it  is  something  sacred 
and-  taboo  to  careful  investigation  and  inquiry. 

One  reason  why  magic  has  had  so  strong  a  hold  is  because 
it  often  has  really  been  effective.  A  man  who  believes  that  he 
will  be  brave  if  he  eats  a  tiger's  heart  doubtless  will  become 
braver  after  having  done  so.  Australian  men  who  believe  that 
an  enemy  has  stolen  their  kidney  fat  by  magical  means  while 
they  were  asleep  have  actually  died  of  fright.  The  Hindu 
Kush  men  probably  have  felt  increased  confidence  in  themselves 
because  they  knew  their  women  were  endeavoring  to  assist  them 
by  dancing.  Trials  by  ordeals  probably  more  often  revealed 
the  guilty  and  cleared  the  innocent  than  they  failed  to  do  so. 
The  man  with  a  guilty  conscience  would  be  more  likely  to  choke 
when  eating  bread,  and  the  innocent  man  would  be  more  likely 
to  be  able  to  swallow  it  without  choking  if  both  believed  in  the 
efficacy  of  such  a  test  of  guilt.  A  knight  fighting  in  the 
tournament  to  vindicate  his  innocence  would  more  likely  be 
successful  if  he  believed  himself  to  be  innocent.  Of  course  these 
are  all  cases  where  the  power  of  mental  suggestion  is  sufficient 
to  help  bring  about  the  desired  effect ;  but  uncivilized  men 
know  nothing  of  the  psychology  of  suggestion,  they  perceive 
that  magical  acts  are  sometimes  successful  and  so  their  confi- 
dence in  magic  is  strengthened. 

The  relation  of  magic  to  religion  for  purposes  of  definition, 
therefore,  is  simply  this.  If  magic  is  employed  in  the  conser- 
vation of  any  socially  recognized  value,  whether  of  concern  to 
the  clan  as  a  whole,  to  a  family,  or  to  an  individual,  it  is 


54  DEFINITION  OF  RELIGION 

religious.  Otherwise  it  is  non-religious.  Magic  is  clearly 
religious  when  used  in  ceremonies  for  the  purpose  of  ensuring 
abundant  crops,  increase  of  cattle,  or  victory  in  war.  Black 
magic,  used  to  work  evil  on  a  private  enemy  in  a  manner 
condemned  by  public  opinion,  is  not  religious. 

It  has  sometimes  been  maintained  that  magic  preceded 
religion,  and  that  the  latter  has  either  developed  from 
it  or  has  supplanted  it.  Professor  Frazer's  Golden  Bough,  for 
instance,  maintains  that  man  first  sought  to  control  super- 
natural powers  by  magic,  and  when  he  found  he  could  not  do 
this  successfully,  became  overawed  at  them,  and  sought  to 
propitiate  them  through  religion.  Of  course  if  religion  were 
so  defined  as  to  make  belief  in  and  worship  of  supernatural 
spirits  and  gods  a  necessary  criterion  of  it,  such  primitives 
as  the  Arunta  would  not  be  religious  at  all,  while  they  would 
be  magical,  and  we  should  have  to  suppose  that  magic  did 
precede  religion.  The  issue  here  is  not  one  of  historical 
sequence  of  facts  so  much  as  of  definition  of  terms.  If  the 
definition  set  forth  in  this  chapter  be  accepted,  then  it  can  be 
said  that  all  races  of  mankind  of  whom  we  have  knowledge  have 
had  religions,  but  that  the  religions  of  the  lowest  races  consist 
chiefly  of  magic,  while  later  on  religions  use  magic  less  and 
animism  more,  and  seek  more  personal  and  reverential  attitudes 
toward  the  agency  used  to  conserve  values.  This  will  be  clearer 
in  the  next  chapter  where  the  evolution  of  spiritual  sacraments 
and  prayer  from  magical  sacrifices  and  spells  will  be  indicated, 

VII — Religion  and  Morality^ 

The  relation  of  religion  to  morality  follows  from  the 
definition  of  religion.  Since  all  values  which  any  religion  seeks 
to  conserve  are  socially  recognized  values,  it  may  be  said  that 
religion  always  has  a  moral  purpose.  But  a  primitive  tribe 
will  not  seek  to  conserve  all  its  socially  recognized  values 
through  religion.  The  values  which  are  important,  but  which 
they  cannot  secure  adequately  by  their  own  efforts  are  most 
likely  to  become  for  them  objects  of  religious  endeavor.  Thus 
food,  and  protection  from,  and  victory  over  enemies  are 
primitive  religious  values  when  food  is  scarce  and  enemies 
numerous  and  dangerous.  Among  savages  many  moral  matters 
may  have  nothing  to  do  with  religion.  Adultery  and  theft  may 
be  morally  condemned  by  the  tribe  without  any  one  thinking 
of  them  as  violations  of  religious  obligations  in  any  way.  Gods 


MORALITY  55 

may  even  command  acts  which  are  contrary  to  human  morality, 
and  are  performed  only  out  of  fear  of  their  wrath.  The 
sacrifice  of  human  infants  by  their  parents  to  Moloch,  and 
the  sacrifice  of  their  chastity  by  decent  women  to  avoid  the 
wrath  of  Isthar,  the  primitive  Semitic  mother  goddess,  are 
Hebrew  and  Babylonian  instances,  13. 

However,  as  religions  evolve,  the  tendency  is  for  moral  values 
to  become  objects  of  religious  concern,  and  for  every  advance 
in  moral  insight  and  appreciation  sooner  or  later  to  influence 
the  religious  activities  of  a  developing  people.  One  of  the 
great  points  of  superiority  of  the  ancient  Hebrew  religion  was 
that  the  prophets  were  able  to  ascribe  to  Yahweh,  their  God, 
every  new  moral  attribute  as  soon  as  they  had  conceived  it, 
so  that  He  always  stood  for  all  that  in  their  minds  was  good 
and  righteous.  Their  religion  thus  was  the  most  important 
agency  in  furthering  and  conserving  Hebrew  moral  progress. 
Christianity  has  likewise  been  a  progressive  religion,  and  new 
moral  values  have  with  very  creditable  rapidity  become  matters 
of  religious  concern.  Religion  is  always  extremely  conserva- 
tive, and  while  this  often  makes  reformers  impatient,  it  is  best 
on  the  whole  that  man  has  one  great  institution  which  clings 
firmly  to  the  values  that  have  come  down  from  the  past  and 
which  seeks  to  assure  their  preservation. 

To  sum  up  the  relation  of  morality  to  religion  we  may  say, 
that  all  religious  values  are  moral  in  the  sense  that  they  are 
socially  recognized ;  but  that  not  all  moral  values  are  religious 
values.  Not  even  all  the  values  that  are  morally  most  important, 
either  from  our  own  standpoint  or  from  that  of  the  worship- 
pers of  the  religion  under  consideration,  are  religious  values. 
However,  it  must  be  added  that  as  civilizations  and  religions 
develop,  the  values  which  religion  endeavors  to  conserve 
increasingly  tend  to  coincide  with  the  highest  moral  values 
that  are  known  at  the  time;  and  that  this  has  been  conspicu- 
ously true  in  the  history  of  Christianity  and  Judaism. 

VIII — Religion  and  Art.    Play 

The  differences  between  religion  and  art  are  so  great  that 
confusion  is  not  likely  to  occur.  Religious  endeavor  in  sacrifice 
and  prayer  is  never  exclusively  an  end  in  itself;  it  is  for  the 
sake  of  future  spiritual  or  material  benefits.  The  aesthetic 
attitude,  on  the  other  hand,  is  always  an  end  in  itself.  Interest 
in  beauty,  whether  of  nature  or  of  art,  is  always  for  its  own 


56  DEFINITION  OF  RELIGION 

sake ;  never,  so  far  as  it  is  really  and  truly  artistic  or  aesthetic, 
for  an  ulterior  purpose.  Such  interest  is  immediate;  religious 
interest  is  mediate,  14.  Religion  may  make  use  of  art  in  its 
worship,  but  it  is  only  as  a  means  to  an  end,  and  it  is  notorious 
how  works  of  art  that  are  mediocre  from  an  aesthetic  stand- 
point are  often  preferred  by  the  religiously  devout  to  the 
masterpieces  in  sculpture,  painting,  and  music.  Moreover, 
ages  of  comparative  religious  shallowness  like  the  Italian 
renaissance  have  often  produced  the  finest  religious  art ;  while, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  Puritans,  movements  of  deep  religious 
earnestness  have  sometimes  rejected  the  services  of  art  almost 
altogether.  Of  course,  both  primitive  and  civilized  arts  have 
largely  developed  in  connection  with  religious  activities,  but 
art  and  religion  always  present  clearly  distinguishable 
attitudes. 

Professor  A.  C.  Watson  objects  to  this  sharp  differentiation 
between  religion  and  art,  15.  For  him  they  are  so  inextricably 
interwoven  that  they  cannot  be  distinguished,  except  by  the 
fact  that  artistic  expression  appears  at  the  culmination  of  a 
period  of  religious  development  as  an  appreciation  in  beautiful 
forms  of  its  achievement.  He  also  affirms  that  a  religious 
mood  is  often  an  end  in  itself,  rather  than  a  means  to  further 
ends,  mentioning  mystical  types  of  devotion,  and  the  Christian 
mood  of  "communion  with  God"  as  instances,  comparing  them 
in  this  respect  with  conjugal  felicity  and  the  intercourse  of 
ideal  friendship.  On  the  contrary,  it  can  be  affirmed  that  the 
great  mystics  have  not  regarded  rapture  and  divine  communion 
as  ends  in  themselves,  to  be  cultivated  for  the  sake  of  the 
enjoyment  that  they  afford.  To  cultivate  ecstacy  for  its  own 
sake  is  "spiritual  drunkenness"  in  the  words  of  St.  Teresa. 
Mystical  states,  according  to  the  best  authorities,  are  to  be 
regarded  as  means  of  spiritual  enrichment  and  increased 
effectiveness  in  the  service  of  God  and  men.  Conjugal  felicity 
and  friendship,  too,  would  be  on  a  lower  plane  than  they 
normally  are,  if  they  were  treated  as  ends  in  themselves  and 
cultivated  for  the  thrills  that  they  afford,  and  not  as  means 
of  mutual  helpfulness  and  the  realization  of  ulterior  ends. 
Religion  is  a  larger  thing  in  human  experience  than  art  just 
because  it  is  not  an  end  in  itself,  but  always  looks  beyond  the 
present  moment,  and  so  is  capable  of  becoming  a  means  to  the 
conservation  of  the  highest  values  known  to  man  in  his  personal 
life  and  his  social  relationships. 


ART  AND  PLAY  57 

Professor  Seashore  has  called  attention  to  the  relationship 
between  religion  and  expressions  of  the  play  impulse,  16.  It  must 
be  admitted  that  religious  ceremonies  both  among  savages  and 
civilized  nations,  are  often  joyous  festivals  in  which  sociability 
is  enhanced.  It  follows  that  many  persons  attend  them  impelled 
by  the  desire  to  have  a  good  time,  as  well  as  by  impulses  of 
curiosity  and  gregariousness.  In  persons  whose  attendance 
is  at  first  due  to  these  impulses,  a  genuine  religious  sentiment 
may  ultimately  develop.  Religious  workers  in  different  ages 
have  realized  this  and  have  made  religious  rites  appeal  to  a 
variety  of  interests.  They  have  often  been  willing  that  a  holy 
day  should  in  some  measure  be  a  holiday.  None  the  less,  the 
psychology  of  religion  and  play  are  fundamentally  different. 
Religion  is  serious ;  it  finds  its  end  in  the  conservation  of  values 
that  are  external  to  the  religious  act  itself.  Play,  on  the  other 
hand,  like  aesthetic  enjoyment,  is  absorbed  in  itself,  and  looks 
to  no  future  or  external  ends.  The  interest  in  play  is  imme- 
diate; the  interest  in  religion,  as  in  all  other  serious  work,  is 
mediate.  Something  further  will  be  said  upon  this  point  in 

Chapter  XIV,  17. 

REFERENCES 

*JAMES  BISSETT  PRATT,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  Chap.  I. 

*JAMES  H.  LETTBA,  A  Psychological  Study  of  Religion,  Chaps.  I-V. 

GEORGE  A.  COE,  Psychology  of  Religion  (see  Index  under  religion,  animism, 
magic). 

*L.  T.  HOBHOUSE,  Morals  in  Evolution,  Part  II,  Chaps.  I,  II. 

*EDWARD  S.   AMES,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  Chaps.   III-V, 
XV,  XIX. 

IRVING  KING,  Development  of  Religion. 

A.  C.  WATSON,  "Logic  of  Religion,"  American  Journal  of  Theology,  Vol. 
XX,  pp.  81-101;  244-265. 

J.  G.  FRAZER,  The  Oolden  Bough. 

ANDREW  LANG,  Magic  and  Religion. 

E.  B.  TYLOR,  Primitive  Culture. 

FREDERICK  SCIILEITER,  Religion  and  Culture. 
R.  R.  MARETT,  The  Threshold  of  Religion. 

WILHELM  WUNDT,  Volkerpsychologie,  Vol.  II,  pt.  Ill,  pp.  646-683. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  DEITIES 

PRAYER 

I — The  Rise  of  Ceremonials 

WE  have  seen  that  savages  engage  in  ceremonials  of  various 
kinds  in  the  endeavor  to  conserve  socially  recognized  values 
in  a  manner  that  may  be  called  religious,  in  terms  of  the 
definition  set  forth  in  the  preceding  chapter.  The  Australian 
natives  engage  in  religious  ceremonials  to  transform  their  boys 
into  men,  to  increase  their  food  supply,  and  to  bring  rain.  The 
Todas  engage  in  religious  ceremonials  to  promote  the  welfare 
of  the  cows,  to  make  it  safe  to  partake  of  the  milk  of  a  cow 
after  a  calf  has  been  born,  and  to  increase  the  supply  of  grass, 
fruit  and  honey.  The  state  religious  ceremonials  of  the 
Baganda  include  a  wider  variety  of  purposes, — counsel  in 
matters  of  state,  victory  in  war,  sentences  upon  criminals,  the 
assurance  of  posterity  to  the  king,  deliverance  from  famine, 
earthquake,  and  pestilence,  and  other  matters  of  national 
concern;  while  families  and  individuals  privately  seek  through 
gods,  fetiches,  spirits,  ancestral  ghosts,  and  amulets,  the 
conservation  of  values  dear  to  them.  Almost  every  concrete 
material  value  thinkable  has  been  sought  through  religious 
means  somewhere  in  the  savage  world.  In  general,  the  values 
sought  through  religious  means  are  those  that  man  does  not 
know  how  to  secure  adequately  for  himself,  through  his 
ordinary  efforts.  Anything  that  involves  the  unknown,  the 
uncanny,  the  mysterious  is  often  thought  to  contain  mana;  and 
so,  if  important  enough,  desire  for  it  will  evoke  the  development 
of  ceremonials.  The  striking  events  of  life, — birth,  the  arrival 
at  puberty,  marriage,  and  death, — are  matters  of  vital  concern 
which  involve  the  unknown  and  mysterious.  So  ceremonials 
often  develop  about  them. 

The  eating  of  food  often  seems  to  the  savage  to  involve  the 
sacred  and  mysterious.  Food  may  contain  mana  that  will  do 
him  good  or  evil.  Australian  aborigines,  as  we  have  seen,  never 
eat  the  food  of  their  totem  except  in  solemn  ceremonials  when 

58 


RISE  OF  CEREMONIALS  59 

/ 

the  mysterious  power  thus  set  into  operation  is  supposed  to 
produce  a  beneficent  effect.  Eaten  by  a  man  of  the  totem  at 
other  times  this  power  would  be  uncontrolled  and  would  work 
disaster.  Various  kinds  of  food  in  Australia  and  elsewhere  are 
taboo  to  women  and  children,  because  if  eaten  by  them  the 
mysterious  power  in  the  food  would  work  evil.  The  flesh  of 
fierce  animals  or  warlike  enemies  when  eaten  ceremonially  is 
often  believed  to  reinforce  one's  own  mana,  and  make  one 
strong  and  brave.  Among  the  primitive  Semites  all  food  seems 
to  have  been  thought  to  contain  mana,  or  its  equivalent,  and 
so  every  family  meal  became  a  religious  ceremony.  The  eating 
of  food,  therefore,  often  has  had  deep  religious  significance. 
"It  is  a  means  of  relieving  hunger  and  of  gaining  power;  it 
averts  danger  from  mysterious  forces,  by  removing  taboos;  it 
is  the  means  of  safe  intercourse  with  strangers,  with  the  dead, 
with  the  opposite  sex ;  it  is  the  means  of  returning  safely  to 
one's  people  and  to  one's  normal  functions  after  a  journey,  a 
battle,  a  period  of  mourning,  or  other  unusual  experience,"  1. 

Water  also  often  is  thought  to  contain  mysterious  power. 
The  primitive  inhabitants  of  the  Arabian  desert  often  feel 
sorely  the  lack  of  abundant  water,  and  at  times  they  see  sudden 
showers  transform  dry  plains  into  green  fields.  Baptism,  and 
other  forms  of  ablution  important  in  many  religions  of  Semitic 
origin,  arose  in  the  first  place  from  the  notion  that  the  action 
of  water  in  a  ceremonial  has  magical  effect,  that  through  the 
agency  of  water  socially  recognized  values  may  be  conserved. 
Blood,  above  all,  is  mysterious  from  the  primitive  point  of 
view,  and  hence  is  thought  to  be  charged  with  mana.  It  is  so 
vitally  connected  with  life  that  it  must  contain  great  potency. 
Men  in  Africa  may  become  "blood  brothers"  by  drinking  a 
little  of  each  other's  blood,  or  mingling  blood  by  opening  their 
veins.  Henceforth  they  are  mystically  united,  and  bound  by 
powerful  ties  to  mutual  support  and  protection.  Violations 
of  tribal  custom  and-  other  sins  are  often  regarded  as 
material,  and  when  religion  first  becomes  ethical,  the  mysterious 
evil  that  sins  would  otherwise  work  upon  the  community  may 
be  averted  by  the  slaughter  of  men  and  animals.  "Without 
the  shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission  of  sins."  Fire, 
likewise,  is  a  great  purifying  agent  and  removes  evil  mana  and 
is  positively  effective  in  producing  beneficent  mana. 
II — The  Evolution  of  Deities 

The  purpose  in  primitive  religions  of  any  ceremonial  is  to 


60  EVOLUTION  OF  DEITIES 

conserve  socially  recognized  values  through  the  employment 
of  mana.  The  eating  of  food,  the  shedding  of  blood,  the  use 
of  water,  fire,  smoke  and  incense,  are  all  means  by  which 
powerful  mana  may  be  evoked.  If  the  source  of  this  mana  is 
distinguished,  and  is  conceived  as  personal  in  character,  it  is 
thought  of  either  as  a  spirit,  ghost,  or  god. 

In  such  ceremonials  as  those  of  the  natives  of  central 
Australia  the  source  of  mana  is  not  objectified  in  any  way  and 
made  external  to  the  ceremonial  itself.  Nor  is  this  done  but 
very  imperfectly  in  the  case  of  the  Toda  dairy  ritual,  though 
there  it  might  perhaps  be  said  that  the  various  objects 
mentioned  in  the  Jcwarzam  are  all  sources  of  mana.  But  in 
the  case  of  the  Baganda  the  sources  of  mana  are  external  to 
the  ceremonials  and  take  the  various  forms  of  gods,  fetiches, 
amulets,  spirits,  and  ghosts.  And  in  most  savage  religions 
the  sources  of  mana  are  thus  externalized,  and  religious 
ceremonials  consciously  endeavor  to  utilize  mana  drawn  from 
these  sources. 

We  have  to  consider,  first, — how  the  sources  become  objec- 
tified and  rendered  external  to  the  ceremonials ;  and  secondly, 
— how  they  become  personified  as  spirits,  ghosts,  and  gods. 
These  two  questions  can  best  be  considered  together. 

The  Australian,  as  we  have  seen,  believes  that  in  some  way 
he  and  the  plants  and  animals  of  his  totem  are  one.  He  has 
not  analyzed  the  matter  further.  Much  the  same  condition 
appears  elsewhere  in  the  savage  world.  The  Bororo  of 
Brazil  say  that  they  are  araras — a  species  of  parrot.  Now 
nothing  seems  more  obvious  to  us  than  that  a  man  cannot  be 
a  parrot,  and  of  course  they  know  that  in  many  senses  they 
are  not  parrots.  But  their  logic  has  not  yet  developed  to  a 
point  where  they  can  discriminate,  and  say  in  what  respects 
they  are  and  in  what  respects-  they  are  not  parrots,  2.  In  this 
stage  totemic  ceremonies  may  go  on-  quite  unreflectively,  and 
the  way.  that  mana  is  evoked  by  the  ceremony  may  raise  no 
problem.  Such-  a  problem  must  forte  itself  ultimately,  though, 
upon  any  race  if  it.  develops- in  intelligence.  Later  on,  the  totem 
may  be  personified1,  it  may  be  a  spirit  or  god  that  abides,  some- 
how in  the  totemic  plants  and  animals.  The  ceremony  now  is 
thought  to  effect  a  mystic  union  or  participation  between  the 
men  and  the  god,  and-  so  the  mana  of  the  god  becomes  available. 
When  this  last  point  io  reached,  the  eating  of  the  tptemic  plant 
or  animal  acquires  r.?v7  significance.  If  we  say  in  this  case,  "the 


DEITIES  61 

god  is  eaten,"  as  some  writers  do,  it  is  necessary  to  make  clear 
the  purport  of  this  rather  startling  statement.  The  god  is 
believed  somehow  to  be  present  in  the  sacred  food  of  the  totem 
and  to  eat  the  food  is  to  become  more  closely  unified  with  the 
god  and  to  receive  mana  from  him.  The  god,  of  course,  con- 
tinues to  exist  outside  of  the  food  that  is  eaten,  and  with 
undiminished  power. 

If  gods  may  sometimes  have  developed  by  externalizing  and 
objectivizing  some  feature  of  the  ceremonial,  like  the  totemic 
animal  or  plant,  at  other  times  the  source  apparently  has  been 
found  in  .  something  previously  not  connected  with  the 
ceremonies  in  which  they  have  been  engaged.  The  Central 
Australian  aborigines,  as  we  have  seen,  although  they  believe 
in  animism,  do  not  make  use  of  ft  in  their  religion.  Where, 
however,  man  believes  that  he  is  surrounded  by  all  sorts  of 
powerful  spirits  and  ghosts,  it  seems  inevitable  that  he  will 
ultimately  deem  it  wise  to  cultivate  friendly  relations  with 
them.  Several  details  mentioned  by  Spencer  and-  Gillen  cause 
one  to  wonder  if  this  step  is  not  imminent.  If  an  Arunta  man 
and  his  wife  both  wish  for  a  child,  the  man  will  tie  his  hair 
girdle  about  a  certain  stone  (through  which  spirits  are 
supposed  to  pass  when  they  wish  to  become  incarnated  in 
women  and  become  born  again  into  the  tribe)  at  the  same  time 
begging  the  spirits  to  look  upon  his  wife  with  favor,  3.  This  is 
almost  a  prayer.  Furthermore,  the  Arunta  medicine  men  have 
the  power  of  communicating  with  certain  spirits  (Iruntarinia) 
from  whom  they  receive  information  regarding  totemic 
ceremonies,  4.  As  Professor  Pratt  remarks,  "Granted  that  out 
of  the  original  feeling  for  the  impersonal  mana,  the  belief  in 
personal  powers  arose,  direct  appeal  to  them  was  surely  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world,"  5. 

Ancestral  worship  seems  to  have  developed  very  naturally 
where  it  prevails.  Parents  love  their  children  while  alive,  and 
grant  their  requests  when  they  can.  What  more  natural  than 
for  the  children  to  continue  to  look  to  their  parents  for  aid 
and  sympathy  after  they  are  dead !  The  worship  of  ancestral 
ghosts  readily  develops  into  a  regular  domestic  ceremonial, 
Feme  food  being  set  aside  for  them  at  every  meal,  which  thus 
becomes  a  social  gathering  for  the  whole  family,  including  its 
dead  as  well  as  its  living  members.  As  generations  pass,  some 
noteworthy  ancestor  of  numerous  families  may  become  a  tribal 
god,  and  be  worshipped  not  only  by  his  actual  descendants,  but 


62  EVOLUTION.  OF  DEITIES 

also  by  those  whose  relationship  to  him  is  purely  legendary. 
If,  in  the  evolution  of  the  human  race,  the  family  has  existed 
as  a  coherent  social  organization  longer  than  the  tribe,  as 
Professor  Westermarck's  History  of  Human  Marriage  has  at 
least  shown  to  be  probable,  tribal  deities  must  in  numerous  cases 
have  developed  in  some  such  manner. 

In  some  parts  of  the  world  a  tribal  leader  or  hero,  or  a 
medicine  man  powerful  in  mana,  may  be  worshipped  after  his 
death  by  those  who  hope  that  he  will  assist  them  with  his 
mana.  The  incident  of  Ganindo,  mentioned  in  Chapter  III, 
is  an  illustration.  The  deceased  kings  of  the  Baganda  is 
another.  The  deceased  Roman  emperors  had  temples,  and 
became  divinities  reverenced  by  the  entire  civilized  world.  Sir 
James  Brooke  was  believed  by  the  Dyaks  of  Sarawack,  whom 
he  governed,  to  be  endued  with  magical  virtue,  and  tribes 
brougjjt  to  him  the  seed  which  they  intended  to  sow  that  he 
might  endow  it  with  fertility,  and  they  scattered  the  water 
in  which  he  bathed  on  their  fields  to  ensure  abundant  crops. 
Will  he,  too,  become  a  god?  6. 

Sometimes  animals  and  often  even  inanimate  objects  have 
become  sources  of  mysterious  power  with  whicH  religious 
ceremonials  are  concerned.  Mukasa's  chief  wife,  Nalwanga, 
it  will  be  remembered,  was  originally  a  pythoness,  7.  Crocodiles 
are  sacred  in  India,  and  certain  cows  were  regarded  as  divine 
in  ancient  Egypt.  Perhaps  such  instances  are  modifications 
of  totemism,  though  it  is  not  certain  that  this  is  necessarily 
the  case.  Animals  that  are  either  especially  dangerous  or 
beneficent  may  be  regarded  with  veneration,  and  mysterious 
power  may  be  attributed  to  them.  Inanimate  objects  that  are 
conspicuous  and  inspire  awe,  like  a  waterfall  or  a  cataract, 
a  formidable  looking  mountain  or  even  a  peculiar  looking  rock, 
may  be  regarded  as  alive,  and  endowed  with  dreadful  powers. 
When  man's  thought  becomes  more  abstract  he  may  begin  to 
generalize,  and  think  of  the  Earth,  as  the  universal  Mother, 
who  gives  birth  to  all  the  plants  directly,  and  is  the  ancestress 
of  animals  and  men.  Where  there  is  a  mother  there  must  also 
be  a  father,  and  the  universal  Father  may  be  identified  with 
the  blue  Sky  which  is  seen  to  extend  over  the  entire  earth,  or 
with  the  Sun  whose  warmth  and  light  seems  everywhere  to 
quicken  and  vivify  nature. 

Once  the  source  of  mana  in  primitive  religions  is  thought  of 
as  distinct  from  the  ceremonial,  it  is  on  its  way  to  development 


DEITIES  68 

into  a  god.  Fetiches,  charms  and  amuiets  are  impersonal,  or 
only  imperfectly  personified,  to  be  sure,  but  they  are  usually 
associated  in  some  way  with  a  god  or  a  spirit  or  ghost  and 
the  mana  which  they  contain  comes  from  this  personal  agency. 
To  be  sure,  this  may  become  obscured,  and  then  these  objects 
are  almost  mechanical  in  their  operations,  like  the  amulets  of 
the  Baganda,  and  efficacious  for  only  a  single  purpose.  If  a 
fetich  becomes  an  independent  object  of  ceremonial  attention 
it  is  likely  to  be  treated  in  some  respects  like  a  god  or  ghost, 
offerings  being  made  to  it,  and  some  of  the  Baganda  fetiches 
seem  on  the  way  to  become  independent  gods.  A  fetich  with 
a  priest,  temple,  and  medium  is  virtually  a  god.  Ghosts  were 
once  personal  beings,  and  so  they  are  already  anthropomorphic, 
and  to  become  gods  they  need  only  become  magnified  and 
exalted  in  the  minds  of  their  worshippers.  The  difference 
between  a  ghost  and  a  god  is  a  matter  of  degree.  The  god  is 
more  powerful,  more  sublime,  and  his  worship  has  become 
generally  recognized,  and  is  not  confined  to  a  family  or  a  few 
scattered  admirers.  He  has,  as  a  rule,  his  established  modes 
of  worship, — a  definite  form  of  ceremonial,  a  temple  and  a 
priest.  A  ghost  simply  needs  to  become  an  institutionalized 
source  of  mana,  and  he  is  a  god. 

The  evolution  of  gods  from  sources  of  mana  that  never  were 
human  beings  is  different  in  some  details.  Animals  and  inanimate 
objects  are  not  anthropomorphic.  They  lack  personal  qualities 
and  attributes.  Gods  with  such  an  origin  sometimes  seem 
vague  in  their  qualities, — not  much  more  than  huge  and 
powerful  monsters.  Such,  for  instance,  are  the  Baganda  gods 
of  earthquake  and  plague.  The  earliest  gods  of  the  Aryan 
conquerors  of  India,~-rthe  Rain,  the  Wind,  the  Sun,  and  other 
natural  objects,  lacked  personal  qualities  and  attributes. 
Presently,  however,  the  latter  were  acquired.  The  Sun  as  god 
is  no  longer  just  the  red  ball  up  in  the  sky,  but  a  splendid 
being  in  human  form,  yet  surpassing  man  in  every  way,  who 
drives  the  physical  sun,  now  a  fiery  chariot,  across  the  heavens. 
Myths  of  various  sorts  develop  about  the  personal  god,  and 
he  is  celebrated  in  hymns  and  epic  poems,  and  often  artists 
portray  him  in  marble  or  upon  temple  wall  as  a  sublime  and 
splendidly  heroic  figure.  The  development  of  gods  in  other 
Aryan  peoples, — Greeks,  Romans,  and  Teutons, — was  similar. 

The  impulse  to  give  gods  personal  forms  and  attributes  is 
the  consequence  of  the  desire  to  conserve  desirable  human 


64. 

mental  and  moral  qualities.  It  is  possible  to  think  of  rain  or 
sunshine  as  conserved  by  transcendent  material  objects.  But 
wisdom,  knowledge  of  the  future,  bravery,  love,  pity,  and  like 
qualities  could  only  be  thought  to  be  conserved  and  rendered 
available  by  gods  who  possessed  these  qualities  themselves.  As 
man  became  self-conscious,  and  knew  himself  to  be  an  individual 
with  a  moral  nature,  he  desired  to  acquire  various  moral  traits. 
In  consequence,  his  gods  tended  to  become  exalted  human 
beings — his  ideals  of  what  he  would  like  to  be  himself.  Later 
on,  to  be  sure,  as  the  many  gods  fused  into  one,  religion  took 
different  directions,  and  in  some  cases  the  one  God  or  world 
order  finally  ceased  to  be  anthropomorphic,  or  even  personal, 
in  many  respects.  However,  such  final  developments  only  came 
after  eras  in  which  there  were  gods  with  numerous  personal  and 
anthropomorphic  traits,  8. 

Ill — The  Evolution  of  Sacrifice 

When  the  source  of  the  agency  through  which  man  seeks 
to  conserve  his  socially  recognized  values  had  been  distinguished 
from  the  agency  and  become  a  ghost,  spirit,  or  god,  the  chief 
religious  ceremonial  developed  into  a  Sacrifice.  In  any  sacrifice, 
as  the  term  will  be  employed  in  this  volume,  man  seeks  through 
some  sort  of  act  or  ceremonial  to  come  into  relations  with  a 
supernatural  being  of  at  least  quasi-personal  characteristics 
(a  ghost,  a  spirit,  a  god,  or  the  one  universal  God),  in  order 
to  secure  the  conservation  of  a  socially  recognized  value. 

Various  attitudes  may  be  assumed  in  a  ceremonial  toward 
this  supernatural  being.  (1)  The  endeavor  may  be  to  control 
the  being, — to  force  him  to  act  at  the  worshipper's  behest, — 
possibly  by  reason  of  a  magical  spell.  "In  ancient  Egypt,  for 
example,  the  magicians  claimed  the  power  of  compelling  even 
the  highest  gods  to  do  their  bidding,  and  actually  threatening 
them  with  destruction  in  case  of  disobedience.  Similarly  in 
India  at  the  present  time  the  great  Hindoo  trinity  of  Brahma, 
Vishnu,  and  Shiva  is  subject  to  the  sorcerers,  who  by  means  of 
their  spells,  exercise  such  an  ascendancy  over  the  mightiest 
deities  that  these  are  bound  submissively  to  execute  on  earth 
below,  or  in  heaven  above,  whatever  commands  the  magicians 
may  please  to  issue,"  9.  French  peasants  used  to  believe  that 
their  priests  could  control  winds,  storms  and  rain,  and  by  a 
special  "mass  of  the  Holy  Ghost"  could  compel  God  to  grant 
whatever  was  asked  of  Him,  no  matter  how  rash  or  importunate 


SACRIFICE  65 

might  be  the  petition,  10.  Such  confusion  between  magic  and 
religion  in  which  the  functions  of  priest  and  sorcerer  are  not 
clearly  distinguished,  represents  a  very  early  stage,  logically, 
in  the  evolution  of  sacrifice.  It  may  even  be  questioned,  whether 
this  stage  is  really  sacrifice  at  all,  in  any  proper  sense. 

(2)  Another  ambiguous  case  is  that  in  which  the  ceremonial 
serves   to  strengthen  the  god,  and  to  enable  him  to  do  his 
beneficent   work.      In   India   it   was    once   thought    that    the 
sacrifices  strengthened  the  Sun,  who  without  their  aid  would 
not  be  able  to  rise  in  the  morning,  and  to  proceed  in  his  course 
across  the  sky.     Here  also  the  magical  element  predominates. 

(3)  We  have  unquestionable  instances  of  sacrifice  when  the 
attitude  is  one  of  bargaining.     The  sacrifice  is  pleasing  to  the 
gods.     They  enjoy  the  food  and  wine,  the  blood  and  incense, 
and  will  give  man  what  he  desires  in  return.     This  is  more 
common  than  either  of  the  two  types  previously  mentioned. 
As  Miss  Harrison  points  out,  the  formula  of  Greek  religion 
as  orthodoxly  conceived  in  the  fifth  century,  B.  C.,  was  do  ut 
des.    "It  is,  as  Socrates  says  (in  the  Euthyphron),  a  'business 
transaction'  and  one  which,  because  god  is  greater  than  man, 
man  on  the  whole  gets  the  best  of  it.     ...     If  man  does  his 
part  in  the  friendly  transaction,  the  gods  will  do  theirs,"  11. 
This    attitude    is    common   in   the    Old    Testament.      Noah's 
offering  of  the  sacrifice  which  pleased  Yahweh  and  led  him  to 
promise,  for  man's  sake  to  send  no  more  floods,  and  the  various 
sacrifices    of    Abraham,    Isaac     and    Jacob,    will    serve    as 
illustrations. 

(4)  Another  conception  of  sacrifice  chiefly  implies  partici- 
pation or  communion  with  a  deity.     There  may  be  an  attempt 
to  effect  some  sort  of  intercourse  between  a  man  and  a  god 
so  that  the  man  may  be  reinforced  and  strengthened  by  divine 
mana.      This   form   of  sacrifice  may   readily  develop   out   of 
totemism, — where  there  is  some  sort  of  identity  between  men 
and  their  totem  that  needs  to  be  strengthened.     It  can  also 
develop  from  ancestral  worship,  for  a   child   naturally  feels 
reinforced  and  sustained  when  he  feels  that  a  beloved  parent 
is  supporting  him.     This  form  of  sacrifice  is  very  crude  and 
barbarous   in   its   lowest    forms,   and   involves   slaughter    and 
burning  of  animals  and  even  of  human  beings.     But  immanent 
within  it  are  noble  possibilities,  and  from  it  have  developed 
some  of  the  most  spiritual  attitudes  toward  God  in  the  higher 
religions. 


66 

(5)  Finally,  the  attitude  in  sacrifice  may  be  a  more  serious 
and  systematic  effort  at  propitiation.  This  attitude  makes 
its  first  appearance  on  a  savage  level.  The  god  is  angry  and 
seeks  blood.  He  is  rampant,  perhaps  merely  out  of  lustful 
desire  for  life — as  in  some  of  the  Baganda  slaughterings 
mentioned  in  Chapter  IV.  On  a  higher  level,  though  still 
barbaric,  a  god  may  be  angry  because  tribal  law  or  custom 
has  been  violated,  and  it  is  necessary  to  propitiate  him  by 
human  or  animal  sacrifices.  This  often  involves  magical 
notions.  The  sins  and  curses  that  have  afflicted  the  nation 
may  be  magically  transferred  to  the  sacrificial  victims  and 
be  consumed  with  them  in  the  fire,  or  loaded  upon  a  scapegoat 
and  driven  into  the  wilderness. 

This  conception  of  propitiation  is  capable  of  high  spiritual 
development  among  civilized  nations.  In  the  case  of  Judaism 
it  has  led  to  lofty  and  inspiring  conceptions  of  atonement  and 
expiation  for  sin  by  the  sufferings  of  the  nation.  In  Chris- 
tianity has  developed  the  sublime  idea  that  God  Himself  in 
the  person  of  the  Saviour,  through  his  death,  made  expiation 
through  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  mankind.  But,  on  the  whole, 
many  and  perhaps  the  majority  of  thoughtful  persons  to-day 
both  in  Jewish  and  Christian  faiths  find  the  conception  of 
blood  atonement  repulsive,  even  in  its  most  refined  and 
spiritualized  forms.  They  prefer  to  think  of  sacrifice,  not 
as  a  mode  of  satisfying  Divine  justice,  but  as  a  means  whereby 
close  personal  communion  between  God  and  man  is  established, 
so  that  man  can  identify  himself  with  God  in  some  way  and 
be  reinforced  by  the  Divine  presence  in  his  soul.  This,  of 
course,  is  along  the  line  of  the  fourth  conception  of  sacrifice 
mentioned.  A  Christian  holding  this  view  would  say  that  the 
entire  life,  teaching,  and  death  of  Jesus  was  a  sacrifice  that 
established  communion  between  God  and  man.  This  communion 
is  experienced  by  each  individual  in  his  own  life  both  in  his 
private  worship  and  also  in  his  participation  in  the  public 
worship  of  the  Church. 

IV — The  Evolution  of  Prayer 

Prayer  has  had  an  evolution  similar  to  that  of  sacrifice. 
Primitive  ceremonies,  like  those  of  the  natives  of  Central 
Australia,  do  not  seem  to  involve  prayer  at  all.  Where  words 
are  repeated  in  a  ceremonial  act  for  the  conservation  of 
socially  recognized  values  we  may  consider  them  to  constitute 


PRAYER  67 

a  prayer.  Viewed  in  this  way,  we  have  called  prayers  the  for- 
mulae said  by  the  Toda  dairymen  priests,  although  they 
are  not  addressed  to  supernatural  beings.  Prayer  at  this 
level  is  a  magical  spell.  Certain  North  American  Indian  rain 
societies  perform  a  ceremony  or  sacrifice  to  bring  rain.  Upon 
an  altar  they  place  emblems  or  pictures  representing  clouds 
with  vertical  drops  for  rain.  By  the  side  of  these  are  ears  of 
Indian  corn  which  are  sprinkled  with  water.  All  this,  of 
course,  is  imitative  magic,  12.  During  the  course  of  the  cere- 
mony, however,  prayers  are  addressed  to  the  ghosts  that  control 
the  supply  of  rain.  The  report  of  this  is  not  detailed;  the 
prayers  may  be  spells  thought  to  compel  the  ghosts  to  send  rain, 
or  they  may  be  entreaties.  Formulae  of  riddance  are  usually 
imperious  commands  or  spells  rather  than  petitional  prayers, 
like  the  Chinese  "Let  the  devil  of  poverty  depart"  or  the 
ancient  Greek  "Go  out,  hunger,"  and  "To  the  door,  you 
ghosts."  When  the  buffalo  clan  of  the  Sioux  decorate  them- 
selves with  totemic  emblems  before  going  on  the  war-path,  and 
say,  "My  little  grandfather  (the  buffalo  totem)  is  always 
dangerous  when  he  makes  an  attempt,"  we  clearly  have 
suggestive  assurances  that  increase  their  confidence,  and  so 
are  of  the  nature  of  a  spell,  while  as  Professor  Farnell  opines, 
"the  coaxing  and  endearing  phrase  of  kinship  seems  to  imply 
a  half-entreaty  as  well,"  13. 

In  the  further  evolution  of  prayer  all  thought  either  of 
coercing  supernatural  beings  by  spells  or  assisting  them  by 
magical  ceremonies,  came  to  an  end.  Man  learned  to  realize 
that  spirits  and  gods  must  be  greater  and  mightier  than  he, 
and  that  they  do  not  need  his  aid  and  cannot  be  coerced  by 
him.  Prayers  now  become  either  petitions  requesting  favors 
for  man  which  the  god  on  account  of  his  superior  power  is  able 
to  grant  if  he  is  so  disposed,  or  else  they  have  for  their  aim 
communion  with  the  divinity,  in  which  case  man  seeks  a  larger, 
fuller  life  by  identifying  himself  somehow  with  the  divine. 
Prayers  of  praise,  and  all  prayers  of  an  aesthetic  or  mystical 
character  are  manifestations  of  the  desire  for  divine 
communion.  Both  of  these  forms  of  prayer  begin  to  appear 
comparatively  early  in  religious  evolution.  As  soon  as  a 
supernatural  being  in  a  religious  ceremonial  is  addressed  in 
words  that  are  not  commands  but  are  requests,  the  petitional 
type  is  beginning  to  emerge.  Dr.  Charles  A.  Eastman 
(Ohiyesa)  describes  how  the  Sioux  boy  solemnly  and  with  due 


68  EVOLUTION  OF  DEITIES 

ceremonial  retires  in  solitude  to  the  mountains  in  expectation 
of  some  vision  of  the  "great  mystery"  (manitou).  This  act 
clearly  points  in  the  direction  of  a  prayer  of  communion, 
though  the  "Great  Mystery"  does  not  seem  to  be  clearly 
personified  and  not  more  than  half  become  a  God,  14?.  The 
petitional  prayer  is  found  in  many  of  the  Hebrew  Psalms,  while 
others  contain  prayers  of  communion. 

In  general,  as  religions  advance  and  as  they  become  more 
ethical  and  more  deeply  thoughtful  in  tone,  the  magical  sides 
of  prayer  and  sacrifice  either  become  sloughed  off  or  trans- 
muted into  more  spiritual  attitudes.  To  seek  courage  through 
communion  with  a  god  by  drinking  wine  as  in  the  Dionysiac 
worship  of  Greece,  or  by  drinking  soma  juice  as  in  an  early 
stage  of  the  evolution  of  religion  in  India,  is  at  least  higher 
than  eating  the  hearts  of  tigers  and  dead  human  enemies  for 
the  purpose.  To  seek  divine  reinforcement  through  the 
enhancement  afforded  by  music,  as  in  the  Orphic  mysteries  of 
Greece,  is  higher  still.  And,  finally,  to  effect  communion 
through  a  purely  mental  act  of  meditation  or  through 
imaginative  address  to  the  Deity,  such  as  has  characterized 
Judaism  and  Christianity  at  their  best,  is  highest  of  all.  But 
the  types  of  prayer  as  they  exist  to-day,  will  be  discussed  and 
classified  in  Chapter  XVI.  Here  it  is  only  necessary  to  note 
that  prayer,  like  sacrifice,  begins  to  develop  as  soon  as  the 
source  of  supernatural  power  implied  in  the  religious  ceremonial 
becomes  differentiated  and  objectified,  and  so  to  be  regarded 
as  external  to  the  ceremonial  itself.  Sacrifice  evolves  more 
rapidly  at  first;  less  reflective  minds  are  more  concerned  with 
acts  than  with  thoughts.  But  prayer  increases  in  prominence 
as  men  become  more  reflective  and  spiritually  minded. 

REFERENCES 

*J.  H.  LEUBA,  A  Psychological  Study  of  Religion,  Chapters  IV-VI. 

*L.  R.  FARNELL,  "The  Evolution  of  Prayer"  in  The  Evolution  of  Religion. 

*E.  S.  AMES,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  Chapters  VII-IX. 

IRVING  KING,  Development  of  Religion,  Chapter  IX. 

R.  R.  MARETT,  Threshold  of  Religion. 

J.  B.  PRATT,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  Chapters  XII-XVI. 

WILHELM  WTJNDT,  Elements  of  Folk  Psychology.     Volkerpsychologie. 

E.  DTTRKHEIM,  The  Elementary  Forms  of  the  Religious  Life. 

J.  G.  FRAZER,  The  Golden  Bough,  Chapters  I,  II. 

L.  T.  HOBHOUSE,  Morals  in  Evolution,  Part  II,  Chapter  I. 

WILLIAM  ROBERTSON  SMITH,  The  Religion  of  the  Semites. 


CHAPTER  VII 
BRAHMANISM 
I — Introductory 

IN  this,  and  the  chapters  immediately  following,  we  shall 
observe  ways  in  which  ethical  religions  (or  religions  of  salva- 
tion and  redemption)  have  developed  from  nature  religions. 
We  shall  seek  to  find  out  what  values  came  to  be  recognized 
in  India,  Greece,  and  Israel,  and  through  what  agency  their 
conservation  was  sought.  We  shall  find  that  in  each  country 
there  came  to  be  (1)  increased  discernment  in  the  appreciation 
of  ethical  values,  and  (2)  a  remarkable  advance  in  conceptions 
of  the  conserving  agency.  There  were  some  differences  in  the 
specific  values  recognized  in  each  land,  but  on  many  points 
there  was  substantial  agreement.  Right  and  wrong  really 
involve,  and  are  usually  recognized  to  involve,  much  the  same 
conduct  and  ideals  in  all  lands  upon  about  the  same  level  of 
culture.  But  the  differences  in  the  agencies  through  which 
efforts  were  made  to  secure  the  conservation  of  these  values 
became  very  great.  To  a  certain  extent,  however,  the  diverse 
religious  experience  of  India,  Greece,  and  Israel  can  be 
said  to  teach  the  same  lessons. 

II — The  Vedic  Period 

During  a  period  not  more  recent  than  fifteen  centuries  before 
Christ,  India  was  invaded  from  the  north  by  Aryan  races,  who 
conquered  the  Dravidian  inhabitants  whom  they  found  in  the 
land,  1.  As  a  result  of  this  conquest,  four  social  classes  appeared. 
The  priests,  warriors,  and  common  people  of  the  Aryans 
constituted  the  three  upper  classes,  while  the  conquered 
Dravidians  became  the  lowest  class.  Centuries  later  these 
social  classes  hardened  into  the  four  original  castes.  At  the 
time  of  the  conquest,  the  Aryans  possessed  a  little  culture. 
They  raised  sheep  and  cattle,  practised  agriculture,  and  knew 
how  to  build  fortified  towns  and  to  work  in  metals. 

The  religion,  as  well  as  the  general  culture  of  the  Aryan 
conquerors  then  was  probably  not  much  superior  to  the 

69 


70  BRAHMANISM 

Baganda.  They  worshipped  gods,  ancestral  ghosts,  and  nature 
spirits.  They  sought  to  placate  demons.  They  sacrificed  to 
useful  objects  (like  the  plough,  the  furrow,  the  war  car,  and 
their  own  weapons)  no  doubt  either  thinking  them  fetiches 
or  desiring  to  impart  mana  to  them.  The  mountains  and 
rivers  they  deemed  holy.  They  gave  objective  existence  to 
abstract  terms  like  Infinity,  Piety,  and  Abundance,  and  made 
them  objects  of  worship.  But  their  chief  attention  at  this 
period  was  devoted  to  the  gods  and  ancestral  ghosts.  The 
other  objects  of  worship  mentioned  had  already  become  less 
important  than  is  the  case  with  savages  like  the  Baganda. 

The  chief  gods  were  conspicuous  objects  of  nature,  such  as 
the  Sun,  Sky,  Earth,  Air,  Light,  Wind,  Rain,  and  Dawn.  At 
first  these  objects  were  simply  personified.  For  instance,  the 
god  Surya  was  simply  the  sun, — the  physical  object  appearing 
as  a  red  ball  in  the  sky.  Presently,  however,  animism  developed 
to  the  point  where  gods  became  differentiated  from  the  objects 
which  they  inhabited,  so  that  different  words  were  needed  to 
designate  the  sun  itself,  and  the  god  of  the  sun. 

Once  this  differentiation  had  been  effected,  between  conspicu- 
ous objects  of  nature  and  gods  associated  with  them,  a  large 
variety  of  myths  developed  about  each  important  god.  These 
myths  were  not  always  consistent  with  one  another.  The 
same  functions  and  attributes  were  assigned  in  different  myths 
to  different  gods.  Thus  the  personalities  and  characteristics 
of  the  gods  began  to  overlap.  Several  quite  different  gods 
often  came  to  be  associated  with  the  same  object  of  nature. 
For  instance,  there  were  many  deities  associated  with  the  sun. 
These  included  Surya,  the  original  physical  sun  (who  now  not 
only  drives  over  the  firmament  but  is  the  author  of  birth  and  is 
petitioned  for  children)  ;  Savitar,  the  enlivener  and  vivifier 
who  gives  protection,  wealth  and  children ;  Pushas,  god  of  the 
herdsmen;  Vishnu,  who  moves  so  fast  that  he  measures  heaven 
in  three  strides ;  Varuna,  god  of  the  dead,  leader  in  battle,  and 
a  generous  giver;  and  Mitra,  "the  friend."  A  large  number 
of  values  thus  became  attached  to  the  various  sun  deities. 
These  gods  were  sometimes  also  confused  with  the  sun's  daugh- 
ter, the  Dawn  (Ushas;  cf.  Aurora). 

As  the  gods  overlapped  in  functions,  there  early  appeared 
a  tendency  to  synthesize  them.  A  triad  became  pre-eminent, 
formed  of  the  deities  of  the  Fire  (Agni),  the  Rain  (Varuna, 
Indra),  and  the  Sun  (Mitra,  Varuna,  Vishnu,  etc.).  As  a 


BRAHMANICAL  PERIOD  71 

late  verse  in  the  Rig  Veda  says,  "They  call  him  Indra,  Mitra, 
Varuna,  Agni, — to  that  which  is  one  they  give  many  a  title." 
From  the  initial  letters  of  a  representative  of  each  of  these 
three  classes  of  deities  (Agni,  Varuna,  Mitra)  it  has  been 
thought,  developed  the  syllable  AUM,  of  which  the  term  "Om" 
prominent  in  Indian  liturgy,  is  a  further  contraction.  As 
the  early  Aryan  conquerors  of  India  were  fond  of  an  alcoholic 
beverage  made  from  the  soma  plant,  it  is  not  strange  that 
Soma  became  a  personified  god.  Soma  was  associated  with 
the  Moon.  Soma  juice,  on  account,  no  doubt,  of  its  intoxicat- 
ing qualities,  seemed  supernatural  in  its  functions,  potent  to 
confer  health  and  immortality,  and  was  identified  with  the  vital 
sap  that  vivifies  the  world. 

The  values  sought  in  this,  the  Vedic  period  (lasting  perhaps 
from  1500  B.  C.  to  800  B.  C.)  were  concrete:  health,  victory 
in  war,  wealth,  children,  good  fortune,  and  the  like.  However, 
before  the  period  closed,  thought  of  a  future  life  had  begun, 
and  men  desired  to  enter  Heaven,  which  was  conceived  material- 
istically as  a  sort  of  Valhalla  or  Elysium,  whose  chief  delights 
would  be  plenty  of  soma  juice,  beautiful  women,  song  and  fight- 
ing, as  well  as  the  privileges  of  returning  to  earth  to  enjoy 
the  soma  and  victuals  prepared  for  them  at  the  sacrifices  offered 
by  their  earthly  descendants.  The  virtues  necessary  to  attain 
this  Heaven  were  chiefly  piety  to  gods  and  ancestors,  liberality 
to  priests,  truthfulness,  and  courage. 

The  worship  by  which  the  conservation  of  these  values  was 
sought  was  simple.  A  share  of  food  was  set  aside  at  each 
family  meal  for  the  gods  and  ancestral  ghosts,  in  order  to 
obtain  their  favor,  as  well  perhaps,  as  from  a  kindly  feeling 
of  fellowship  with  them.  Elaborate  public  sacrifices  were  con- 
ducted by  the  priests,  which  were  often  of  the  nature  of  feasts, 
and  though  reverent,  were  joyous  occasions.  Food  and  soma 
drink  were  provided  in  abundance  and  were  believed  to  be 
enjoyed  by  gods  and  ghosts  as  well  as  man.  Most  of  the  gods 
were  believed  to  be  very  friendly.  Still,  they  were  thought  to 
send  evil  when  angry,  and  the  priests  knew  how  to  perform 
expiatory  ceremonies  to  appease  them  and  to  free  men  from 
guilt,  pollution,  and  disease. 

Ill — The  Brahmanical  Period 

A  second  period,  lasting  from  perhaps  800  to  500  B.  C., 
found  the  priests  in  the  ascendancy.  Religious  worship  had 


72  BRAHMANISM 

become  their  specialty,  and  great  emphasis  was  placed  upon 
the  exact  performance  of  ritual.  So  important  had  this  become 
that  the  priests  gained  a  prestige  second  only  to  the  gods  them- 
selves. "There  are  two  kinds  of  gods;  for  the  gods  are  gods, 
and  priests  that  are  learned  in  the  Veda  (the  sacred  writings) 
and  teach  it  are  human  gods,"  2.  Like  sacrifice  paid  to  the 
gods  are  the  fees  paid  to  the  human  gods, — the  priests. 

A  striking  feature  of  this  period  is  the  fact  that  the  person- 
alities of  the  different  gods  become  dim.  This  is  due,  in  part 
to  the  outcome  of  Oriental  flattery, — in  addressing  each  god 
to  attribute  to  him  all  the  virtues  and  powers  of  all  the  other 
gods.  But  the  chief  reason  is  that  the  sacrifice  has  become 
all  important.  The  ceremonial  is  of  more  consequence  than 
the  god  to  whom  it  is  addressed.  Through  the  faithful  per- 
formance of  sacrifices  man  is  strengthened  and  sustained,  and 
is  enabled  to  achieve  immortality  in  Heaven.  Indeed  the  em- 
phasis on  the  sacrifice  goes  so  far  that  it  is  asserted  that  the 
gods  themselves  obtained  Heaven  through  sacrifice,  2. 

The  mechanical  character  of  religious  worship  in  this  period 
on  first  thought  seems  to  be  a  degeneration.  It  suggests  a 
lapse  from  full  recognition  of  personal  gods  to  the  magical 
performances  of  an  earlier  stage  of  religious  evolution.  In 
some  ways,  no  doubt,  th?s  is  true.  Morally,  too,  it  appears 
to  be  a  degeneration.  It  suggests  that  the  priests  are  impos- 
ing upon  the  credulity  of  the  people  in  order  to  enrich  them- 
selves. And  this,  also,  no  doubt  in  a  measure  is  true.  Yet, 
on  the  whole,  this  period  represents  an  advance  both  in  the 
means  by  which  religious  values  are  conserved,  and  in  the 
moral  character  of  the  values  recognized.  "The  sacrifice  is 
indeed  represented  to  be  the  only  door  to  prosperity  on  earth 
and  to  future  bliss;  but  there  is  a  quiet  yet  persistent  belief 
that  at  bottom  a  moral  and  religious  life  is  quite  as  essential 
as  are  the  ritualistic  observances,  with  which  worship  is  accom- 
panied," 4.  Man's  debts  are  fourfold :  he  owes  sacrifices  to  the 
gods ;  to  the  seers  he  owes  the  study  of  the  Vedas ;  to  his 
ancestors  he  owes  the  duty  of  rearing  descendants  to  preserve 
the  family  name  and  worship;  to  his  fellowmen  he  owes  the 
duties  of  hospitality.  The  gods  enjoin  truthfulness  and  the 
observance  of  sacred  days,  while  they  forbid  adultery,  murder, 
theft,  abortion,  gluttony,  anger,  and  procrastination. 

The  psychology  of  the  exaltation  of  the  sacrifice  in  this 
period,  and  of  the  subordination  of  the  gods  to  it,  is  fairly 


PHILOSOPHICAL  PERIOD  78 

clear  if  the  theory  of  sacrifices  and  mana  set  forth  in  the 
preceding  chapter  be  accepted.  Early  forms  of  religion,  such 
as  those  of  the  Central  Australians,  are  not  concerned  with 
gods  at  all,  but  with  ceremonials  thought  to  produce  some 
kind  of  impersonal  power,  such  as  at  a  later  stage  of  develop- 
ment comes  to  be  known  as  mana.  The  ceremonial  or  sacrifice, 
in  other  words,  is  older  than  the  gods.  The  latter  evolved  to 
explain  the  sacrifice,  personifying  the  agency  tKought  to  be 
operative  in  it.  This  being  the  historical  sequence,  it  was  quite 
natural,  in  the  Brahmanical  period  in  India,  as  attention  became 
focused  on  the  ceremonial,  that  it  should  have  been  felt  that  it 
was  the  ceremonial  that  produced  the  gods,  who  continued  to 
be  dependent  upon  it.  The  efficacy  which  men  attach  to  the 
actions  of  the  gods,  and  the  influence  which  gods  exert  in  con- 
sequence upon  men,  are  entirely  dependent  upon  the  fidelity  with 
which  men  perform  sacrifices  to  them.  In  arguing  this,  the 
author  does  not  mean  to  imply  that  he  thinks  that  gods  in  the 
thought  of  India  or  elsewhere  are  purely  human  creations,  as 
he  hopes  he  has  already  made  clear.  But  he  does  believe  that 
the  forms  that  man's  conceptions  of  the  gods  assume  are  the 
outcome  of  human  experiences  and  practices. 

IV — The  Philosophical  Period — Brahmanism 

A  further  development  took  place  between  say  B.  C.  500  and 
B.  C.  100.  (1)  This  development  known  as  "Brahmanism,"  and 
found  in  the  Upanishads  and  the  Vedanta,  was  effected  by  the 
thinkers  of  India,  the  theologians  and  philosophers.  It  prob- 
ably never  greatly  influenced  the  masses  of  the  people,  who 
remained  on  the  plane  of  thought  of  the  earlier  periods.  Two 
other  general  characteristics  of  this  movement  must  be  men- 
tioned. (2)  Its  interest  is  primarily  intellectual,  rational- 
istic,— an  expression  of  the  demand  of  the  mind  for  unity,  for 
the  reduction  of  all  facts  to  one  common  principle  of  explana- 
tion. (3)  Being  primarily  an  intellectual  movement,  it  has 
comparatively  little  regard  for  moral  antitheses — the  effort  is 
always  to  state  the  real  in  opposition  to  the  unreal  rather  than, 
as  among  the  Hebrews,  the  good  in  opposition  to  evil,  right  in 
opposition  to  wrong.  None  the  less,  Brahmanism  in  many 
respects  displays  a  lofty  spiritual  insight,  and  has  always 
found  enthusiastic  admirers  among  western  students  of  India. 

All  the  gods,  for  philosophical  Brahmanism,  are  reduced  to 
one  Being — Brahma.  This  god  is  impersonal,  when  rightly 


74  BRAHMANISM 

understood ;  though  those  who  do  not  fully  grasp  the  doctrine 
are  permitted  to  think  of  him  as  a  personal  god — Brahma. 
The  word,  Brahma,  literally  means  prayer..  Brahma  is  the 
soul  of  the  world,  the  universal  God,  who  pervades  all  things, 
and  is  all  in  all.  Brahma  is  the  fundamental,  eternal  reality 
of  the  universe.  All  else  is  transitory,  illusory,  mere  appear- 
ance. 

This  Brahma,  the  soul  of  the  universe,  is,  if  a  man  can  only 
realize  it,  identical  with  the  principle  that  he  feels  in  his  own 
inner  nature,  his  own  inner  psychic  force.  So  the  great  equa- 
tion of  this  religious  faith  is  the  identity  between  oneself 
(Atman)  and  God.  Brahman Atman.  Suppose  now,  a  man  can 
fully  grasp  and  bring  home  to  himself  what  this  means,  that 
he  is  one  with  the  force  that  pervades  the  universe!  Consider 
how  sustaining,  how  comforting  and  self-assuring  this  would 
be — how  close  and  intimate  must  be  his  consciousness  of  the 
Divine  Presence!  To  gain  this  insight  is  salvation. 

"He  who  is  without  desire,  free  from  desire,  his  desire 
attained,  whose  desire  is  set  on  Self  (Atman),  his  vital  breath 
does  not  pass  out,  but  Brahman  is  he,  and  in  Brahman  is  he 
absorbed.  As  the  verse  says : 

'When  all  the  passion  is  at  rest 

That  lurks  within  the  heart  of  man, 
Then  is  the  mortal  no  more  mortal, 

But  here  and  now  attaineth  Brahman.' "  5. 

This  doctrine  is,  of  course,  a  form  of  pantheistic  idealism. 
There  is  the  same  spiritual  essence  in  all  things,  and  this  alone 
is  eternal,  and  ultimately  real.  The  universe  is  not  mere  mat- 
ter; on  the  contrary,  it  is  spiritual,  rational,  good.  What 
appears  to  us  as  matter  is  Maya  (illusion)  selfishness,  individ- 
uality. When  I  think  of  myself  as  distinct  from  another  man, 
I  am  actuated  by  selfishness,  and  led  into  error  by  illusion. 
We  are  really  all  one  in  Brahma. 

In  this  period  there  appears  for  the  first  time  in  the  sacred 
scriptures  the  doctrine  of  transmigration  of  souls.  In  a  simple 
form  this  conception  is  often  found  among  very  primitive  folk, 
and  the  philosophers  may  have  learned  it  from  the  Dravidian 
aborigines,  and  adapted  it  in  order  to  explain  the  problem 
why  the  fortunes  of  men  in  this  life  are  so  often  ill  propor- 
tioned to  their  deserts.  In  the  form  which  the  doctrine  at  this 
time  assumed,  it  affirmed  that  the  soul  persists  from  one  life 
to  another.  It  has  existed  in  human  and  animal  bodies  before 


75 

this  life,  and  after  death  it  will  continue  to  exist  in  other  bodies 
— human,  animal,  or  superhuman.  A  man's  present  state  is 
the  just  reward  for  what  he  has  done  in  past  states  of  existence. 
By  this  period  the  classes  of  earlier  society  had  become  hard- 
ened into  castes,  and  the  question  had  arisen,  "Why  do  some 
men  enjoy  the  exalted  social  standing  and  prestige  of  the  high 
Brahmin  caste,  while  others  are  contemptible  Sudras?"  So 
on  this  view  the  social  order  then  in  existence  in  India  was 
morally  defensible;  since  the  order  of  the  universe  is  perfectly 
just,  whatever  a  man  sows  of  good 'or  of  ill,  he  must  ultimately 
reap,  if  not  in  the  same  incarnation,  then  in  a  later  one.  The 
reasoning  here,  it  will  be  observed,  is,  in  a  sense,  logical;  it  is 
more  rational  than  the  earlier  and  cruder  notions  of  the  future 
life;  and  it  justified  the  existing  order.  Thus  regarded,  Brah- 
manism  is  a  religion  of  complacent  optimism  regarding  social 
questions;  the  caste  is  fundamentally  just,  there  is  no  need  of 
social  reform. 

The  problem  of  immortality  in  this  system  becomes  the  search 
for  a  means  by  which  one  will  escape  unfavorable  incarnations 
in  the  future.  How  can  one  escape  them?  All  men  slip  and 
fall.  No  matter  how  good  one  may  be  in  this  life,  no  matter 
into  what  state  of  existence  higher  than  man's  one  may  next 
pass,  temptations  are  liable  to  come  and  one  may  sin,  and  in 
consequence  next  appear  in  one  of  the  hells  or  be  reincarnated 
on  earth  in  a  loathsome  animal  form, — a  snake  or  a  toad  or 
what  not !  Thus  conceived,  the  prospect  of  immortality  is 
surely  dismal  enough!  Is  there  any  way  to  escape  such  a 
destiny  ? . 

The  solution  is  this :  Fix  firmly  in  your  mind,  by  rigorous 
mental  discipline,  and  constantly  keep  before  you,  this  funda- 
mental truth, — "Brahma= Atman.  Thou  art  Brahma."  Know 
this,  fully  realize  it,  act  on  it  consistently,  and  you  are  saved. 
You  will  be  freed  from  all  discontent,  envy,  jealousy,  dissatis- 
faction ;  you  will  find  eternal  quiet  and  peace  in  Brahma.  For, 
as  Brahma,  all  things  are  yours ;  since  Brahma  is  all  and  in  all. 
Whom  can  you  envy?  All  that  is,  is  one  with  you  in  Brahma. 
As  Brahma  is  eternal  and  unchangeable,  and  ever  at  rest,  all 
that  changes  for  us  is  illusion  and  error  to  him;  so  if  you 
really  succeed  in  fully  identifying  yourself  in  thought  with 
Brahma  you  will  be  at  peace  with  the  world  in  this  life,  and 
will  never  again  be  reincarnated  in  a  mortal  body.  At  death 
you  will  remain  one  with  Brahma  in  a  state  of  eternal  blessed- 


76  BRAHMANISM 

ness  which  is  indescribable  in  human  thought  and  language; 
but,  since  it  is  free  from  all  wants  and  desires,  is  more  like  a 
profound  and  dreamless  sleep,  than  anything  else  that  we  can 
x  imagine. 

Why  did  the  philosophers  seek  such  a  passive  state  of  mind 
as  their  highest  ambition?  Perhaps  the  hot  climate,  in  which 
all  exertion  is  painful,  had  something  to  do  with  it.  Perhaps 
they  were  world  weary,  tired  of  the  problems  and  disappoint- 
ments of  an  already  old  and  unsatisfactory  civilization.  Per- 
haps the  thought  of  an  eternal  cycle  of  rebirths  filled  them  with 
dismay,  and  some  road  out  of  finite  existence  appeared  most 
desirable.  We  Westerners  have  our  doubts  about  immortality ; 
we  should  like  to  feel  assured  of  a  future  existence.  But  sup- 
pose we  felt  certain  enough  that  we  would  have  future  existences 
without  end,  yet  felt  no  assurance  that  each  of  them  would  be 
an  improvement  on  the  preceding  one,  and  on  the  other  hand, 
believed  it  to  be  highly  probable  that  inevitably  we  must  some 
time  pass  into  states  far  worse  than  our  present  one.  On  such 
a  supposition,  should  not  we,  too,  regard  an  unchangeable 
state  of  eternal  quiet  and  rest,  free  from  all  desires  and  wants, 
as  blessedness  indeed? 

Not  everyone,  of  course,  could  be  expected  by  the  Brahmin 
philosopher  to  attain  his  insight.  Common  folk  may  well  wor- 
ship according  to  the  light  that  they  have,  and  they  will  receive 
rewards  proportionate  to  their  deserts.  They  will  of  course  be 
destined  to  future  reincarnations.  Those  who  faithfully  wor- 
ship Brahma  as  a  personal  god,  external  to  themselves,  instead 
of  as  Brahma,  the  impersonal  soul  of  the  world,  will  after 
death  pass  through  successively  advancing  states  until  they 
reach  the  domain  of  Brahma  where  they  will  enjoy  an  exalted 
position  and  the  fulfillment  of  all  their  desires.  There  they 
will  remain  until  the  destruction  of  this  world,  by  which  time 
they  will  have  learned  to  know  Brahma  fully,  and  be  ready  for 
eternal  rest.  To  those  who  do  not  even  know  the  lower  per- 
sonal Brahma,  but  faithfully  adhere  to  the  old-fashioned  Vedic 
sacrifices  and  precepts,  reward  is  also  promised.  They  will 
pass  to  the  moon  after  death,  where  they  will  enjoy  converse 
with  the  gods  as  a  reward  for  part  of  their  good  works,  and 
later  they  will  return  to  earth  and  be  reincarnated  according 
to  their  merits  in  one  of  the  higher  castes.  Those  who  have 
done  evil  works  after  death  will  go  to  one  of  the  hells,  and 
later  be  reincarnated  in  the  body  of  an  animal.  So  everybody 


PHILOSOPHICAL  PERIOD  77 

will    meet    with    a    reward    according    to    his    capacities    and 
merits, — the  universe  is  fundamentally  just  and  right. 

The  psychology  of  this  evolution  is,  the  author  believes, 
fairly  simple.  In  the  Vedic  period  all  the  gods  were  possessors 
of  mana.  In  the  Brahmanical  period  it  was  discovered  that  the 
mana  possessed  by  the  gods  is  the  result  of  sacrifice  and  prayer, 
that  is,  activities  engaged  in  by  the  gods  themselves  and  by 
men.  So  the  sacrifice  itself  becomes  more  important  than  the 
gods  who  are  its  product.  It  therefore  followed  that,  attention 
being  largely  transferred  from  the  gods  to  the  sacrifice,  the 
gods  became  confused,  and  fused  into  one  God.  This  one  God 
is  called  Brahma :  as  his  name  implies,  he  really  was  the  product 
of  prayer  and  sacrifice.  So  all  mana  comes  from,  and  in  fact 
constitutes,  Brahma.  And  as  all  the  gods  thus  are  fused  into 
one,  and  the  different  sources  of  mana  have  become  identified, 
this  common  source  ceases  to  be  personal ;  it  is  simply  the 
impersonal  Brahma, — a  vast  reservoir  of  mana.  The  belief 
in  mana,  as  was  urged  in  Chapter  III,  is  due  to  the  awareness 
of  an  influx  into  consciousness  of  subconscious  energy.  This 
influx,  and  consequent  heightening  of  consciousness,  was 
effected  by  the  sacrifices  and  prayers.  In  prehistoric  times 
the  cause  of  this  became  attributed  to  personal  gods,  and  in 
the  Vedic  period  was  still  attributed  to  them.  In  the  Brah- 
manical period,  men  more  clearly  saw  that,  after  all,  the  height- 
ening of  consciousness  and  increased  effectiveness  gained 
through  the  sacrifices  was  the  main  thing,  rather  than  the  gods 
to  whom  the  sacrifices  were  addressed.  In  the  Philosophical 
period,  increased  reflection  made  it  evident  to  thinking  men 
that  the  sacrifices  had  the  same  effects  on  men,  whichever 
gods  they  happen  to  address.  The  gods,  therefore, 
really  are  identical.  They  are  this  heightening  of  con- 
sciousness itself,  they  are  one  Being,  namely  Prayer  (Brahma). 
This  stage  reached,  Prayer  soon  ceases  to  be  a  personal  God, 
and  becomes  simply  the  abiding  impersonal  essence  or  reality 
of  all  things — Brahma.  And,  for  the  reflective  man  who  has 
come  to  see  this,  religious  worship  has  come  to  be  prayer  and 
meditation  rather  than  the  performance  of  magical  rites.  So 
Brahma  is  spiritual  force,  to  be  gained  through  spiritual 
means.  Only  the  less  intelligent  need  the  physical  aid  of 
priestly  rites  of  a  half  mechanical  nature.  It  is  by  looking 
within  that  one  finds  Brahma;  for  it  is  in  one's  own  self  that 
Brahma  abides.  Men  who  are  not  philosophers  and  cannot 


BRAHMANISM 

>w  out  this  reasoning  may  continue  to  think  of  Brahma  as 
me  personal  God,  or  they  may  still  more  confusedly  believe 
in  the  many  gods  of  the  Vedas.  Let  them  be  guided  by  the  best 
light  they  have.  They  will  receive  rewards  proportionate  to 
that  light  if  they  follow  it  faithfully. 

The  moral  values  sought  to  be  conserved  by  philosophical 
Brahmanism  include  all  those  of  the  preceding  period,  and 
besides,  love  and  good  will  to  all  beings  in  the  universe,  calm- 
ness and  serenity  of  mind,  freedom  from  faults  and  sins,  and  a 
blessed  immortality  in  Brahma.  The  agency  through  which 
this  is  sought  is  evidently  a  further  development  from  the 
second  period — now  more  clearly  envisaged  as  the  impersonal 
Brahma.  The  means  by  which  this  conservation  of  values  is 
sought  is  a  great  advance  upon  the  Brahmanical  period.  It  no 
longer  consists  in  magical  sacrificial  rites,  but  includes  medi- 
tation, clearness  of  intellectual  and  moral  insight, — a  sort  of 
spiritual  communion,  in  which  one  realizes  one's  identity  with 
God. 

The  merits  of  Brahmanism  have  been  highly  praised  by  its 
admirers.  "Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself,"  says 
Professor  Deussen,  "because,  the  Veda  here  adds  in  explanation, 
"thy  neighbor  is  in  truth  thy  very  self,  and  what  separates  you 
from  him  is  mere  illusion.  .  .  As  in  this  case,  so  at  every  point 
of  the  system,  the  New  Testament  and  the  Upanishads,  these 
two  noblest  products  of  the  religious  consciousness  of  man- 
kind, are  found  when  we  sound  their  deepest  meaning  to  be 
nowhere  in  irreconcileable  contradiction,  but  in  a  manner  the 
most  attractive  serve  to  elucidate  and  complete  one  another,"  6. 
The  Brahmin  philosophy  can  claim  one  point,  at  least,  of  excel- 
lence. It  has  always  been  extremely  tolerant  of  other  faiths, 
and  remarkably  free  from  bigotry  and  persecuting  tendencies. 
It  has  always  gladly  recognized  some  measure  of  truth  and 
virtue  in  all  religions  and  in  all  men. 

On  the  contrary,  the  defects  in  Brahminism  have  been  serious 
enough.  It  has  been  only  too  tolerant.  It  has  for  this  reason 
failed  to  be  a  reforming  religion.  It  has  tolerated  magic  and 
all  manner  of  degrading  superstitions.  Far  from  attempting 
to  reform  the  cruel  social  injustices  of  the  caste  system,  it  has 
found  a  moral  justification  for  them.  This  religion  has  founded 
no  church ;  it  has  developed  no  social  activities ;  it  has  cared 
little  to  serve  humanity.  Salvation  is  to  be  won  by  inner  medi- 
tation by  oneself.  One  is  taught  to  conceive  himself  in  an 


PHILOSOPHICAL  PERIOD  79 

intellectual  manner  to  be  identical  with  one's  neighbor  and 
love  him  as  oneself,  but  little  motivation  is  afforded  to  incite 
one  to  go  actively  to  a  neighbor's  material  assistance  in  any 
manner. 

Nor  is  this  the  worst.  It  is  hard  for  many  men  to  attain 
to  the  idealistic  insight  prescribed  by  Brahmanism.  This  phil- 
.  osophy  therefore  readily  became  corrupted  very  early.  Two 
of  these  corruptions  must  be  noticed,  as  they  had  some  influence 
on  the  Buddha.  (1)  The  Samkya  philosophy  refused  to  iden- 
tify all  subjects  and  objects  completely,  and  to  merge  them 
into  a  world  soul.  Matter  is  real,  individuals  are  real  in  this 
life.  There  is  no  Brahma.  This  philosophy  is  frankly  athe- 
istic. It  is  also  pessimistic.  Desire  is  the  great  evil — how 
become  free  from  desire,  disappointment  and  sorrow  in  this 
life  and  endless  rebirths  in  the  future?  (2)  The  answer  was 
offered  by  the  Yoga  school,  who  attempted  to  work  out  a  way 
of  salvation  through  asceticism.  Withdraw  from  your  senses 
and  become  one  with  the  Atman,  conceived  as  a  personal  God 
external  to  the  universe  and  creator  of  it.  It  is  hard  to  do 
this  through  meditation.  Physical  exercises  assist.  Sit  in  a 
peculiar  and  exhausting  position,  hold  your  breath,  look  at 
3rour  nose,  and  meditate  on  the  sacred  word  "Om"  with  com- 
plete fixation  of  attention  until  you  pass  into  an  auto-hypnotic 
trance  and  feel  yourself  one  with  the  Atman.  After  three 
months  of  such  practice,  the  faithful  disciple  will  attain  to 
knowledge ;  after  four,  to  the  vision  of  the  gods ;  after  five,  to 
their  strength;  and  after  six,  to  their  absolute  nature.  This 
practice  delivers  from  all  sins,  though  they  are  as  mountains 
rising  many  miles  high. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  conclude,  however,  that  Brahmanism 
totally  failed  to  recognize  moral  values  involving  social  rela- 
tionships. The  highest  ideal,  to  be  sure,  was  that  of  the  un- 
social hermit ;  but  most  persons  are  laymen,  living  in  ordinary 
social  relationships.  The  code  of  Manu,  which  may  be 
taken  roughly  to  represent  the  moral  and  social  ideals 
operative  in  the  period  that  produced  philosophical  Brahman- 
ism, discloses  many  merits.  The  moral  superiority  of  good 
acts  performed  without  desire  for  rewards  is  recognized, 
as  is  also  the  necessity  for  a  spiritual  change  in  one's  char- 
acter, so  that  a  man  becomes  "twice  born"1 —  an  expression 
that  reminds  one  of  Jesus'  talk  with  Nicodemus.  Con- 
fession and  repentance  of  sins  are  enjoined.  The  more 


80  BRAHMANISM 

iocial  and  spiritual  view  of  conduct  Is  everywhere  emerg- 
ing, but  it  does  not  succeed  in  breaking  away  completely 
from  earlier  magical  notions  which  impede  its  full  expres- 
sion. The  "twice  born"  man  is  to  avoid  causing  harm 
to  any  fellow  human  being  or  animal;  and  among  the  other 
virtues  recognized  are  humanity  and  chivalry  in  warfare,  truth- 
fulness and  courtesy,  and  the  avoidance  of  low  occupations  and 
mean  methods  of  gain  in  private  life.  But  the  general  tone  of 
moral  precepts  is  largely  negative :  an  enemy  is  to  be  ignored, — 
an  advance  upon  earlier  ideas  of  blood  vengeance,  to  be  sure, 
but  not  so  lofty  as  a  recognition  of  the  duty  of  forgiveness 
and  reconciliation  would  have  been.  And  magical  conceptions 
persist  regrettably ;  as,  for  instance,  when  it  is  said  that  "even 
he  who  has  stolen  gold  instantly  becomes  free  from  guilt  if  he 
once  mutters"  a  certain  hymn,  7. 

We  must  credit  philosophical  Brahmanism  with  a  great 
advance  upon  the  stages  that  preceded  it.  It  succeeded  in 
reducing  the  gods  to  a  single  principle,  and  in  bringing  this 
principle  into  intimate  relation  with  the  true  self  or  ^personality 
of  man.  This  is  a  profound  insight;  indispensable  in  some 
form  or  other,  for  every  spiritual  religion.  Man  must,  if  he 
is  to  conserve  his  higher  moral  values  through  religion,  find 
in  the  world  order  an  Agency  that  will  conserve  these  values, 
and  it  must  be  possible  for  him  completely  to  identify  his  own 
personality  with  that  Agency.  There  must  be  some  sort  of 
at-onement  between  the  individual  soul  and  the  Agency.  What 
man  is,  and  what  he  has  learned  to  be  morally  desirable,  must 
in  some  sense  be  appreciated  and  maintained  in  the  world  order. 
The  support  of  the  world  order  must  be  rendered  available  to 
man.  Philosophical  Brahmanism  in  some  respects  succeeded 
in  working  out  an  articulate  account  of  the  universe,  and  how 
through  religion  man  may  gain  what  he  has  learned  to  be 
morally  most  valuable. 

V — Modern  Hinduism 

Philosophical  Brahmanism,  as  we  have  seen,  was  too  pro- 
found and  subtle  to  win  the  adherence  of  the  masses  of  the 
people  of  India.  The  finest  product  of  Indian  religious  evolu- 
tion— Buddhism — though  popular  in  some  regions  for  cen- 
turies, finally  lost  its  hold,  and  has  long  since  practically  dis- 
appeared from  India.  Each  of  the  various  faiths  now  dominant 
in  India  (other  than  Mohammedanism — a  foreign  importation 


HINDUISM  81 

— and  minor  sects  like  Jainism)  centers  about  one  or  the  other 
of  two  deities, — Shiva  and  Vishnu.  These  gods  have  evolved 
from  early  Hindu  deities  held  in  popular  esteem. 

The  Shiva  and  Vishnu  religions,  when  held  by  intellectuals, 
are  interpreted  in  ways  that  show  the  influence  of  philosophical 
Brahmanism.  Shiva  (or  Vishnu,  as  the  case  may  be)  is  the  one 
impersonal  and  all  pervading  God,  the  duty  of  the  individual  is 
to  realize  his  identity  with  Him,  and  the  various  gods  of  the 
popular  religions  are  imperfect  but  partially  real  manifesta- 
tions (or  incarnations)  of  this  one  God.  The  law  of  Karma 
prevails,  and  the  universe  is  governed  on  principles  of  absolute 
justice  that  are  superior  to  any  personal  god. 

But  most  Hindus  are  not  intellectuals.  For  them  Shiva  and 
his  wife  (most  frequently  known  as  Kali)  Vishnu,  and  Krishna 
(the  most  popular  of  the  various  men  in  whom  Vishnu  has 
become  incarnate,  for  the  salvation  of  mankind)  and  numerous 
other  gods  are  worshipped,  in  temples  and  at  home,  with  the 
aid  of  images  and  emblems  of  a  material  sort.  The  personalities 
of  these  gods  are  not  so  clear  cut  in  the  worshipper's  mind,  as 
is  the  case  in  most  polytheistic  religions  (possibly  as  a  result 
of  Brahmanism),  and  to  them  are  attributed  quite  contradic- 
tory characteristics.  Shiva,  the  "destroyer"  or  "terrible  one," 
is  often  thought  of  as  gentle  and  merciful;  he  controls,  or  is, 
the  reproductive  force  in  nature ;  he  is  a  great  ascetic,  who 
lives  alone  in  the  mountains ;  he  is  a  destroyer  of  demons  and 
protector  of  those  who  put  their  faith  in  him.  His  wife, 
when  thought  of  as  Parvati  or  Uma  is  a  model  Hindu  lady 
subject  to  her  husband.  But  in  her  more  popular  forms,  as 
Kali,  Durga,  Devi,  she  is  a  bloodthirsty  creature  who  delights 
in  shedding  blood  and  to  whom  bloody  animal  sacrifices  must 
be  offered;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  she  is  thought  of  as  the 
"universal  mother,"  who  is  not  merely  the  female  reproductive 
force  of  the  universe,  but  a  kind  and  tender  mother,  with  a 
place  in  the  love  and  confidence  of  her  worshippers  that  can 
almost  be  compared  with  that  held  by  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary 
in  the  hearts  of  pious  Roman  Catholics.  Vishnu  is  variously 
conceived  as  an  anthropomorphic  god,  dwelling  with  his  wife 
in  a  definite  locality,  and  as  an  infinite  spirit  present  every- 
where, and  alone  real.  He  is  the  god  of  love, — both  as  con- 
ceived in  a  lofty  spiritual  sense,  and  in  an  erotic  manner.  The 
Krishna  cult  believe  that  Vishnu  becomes  incarnated  from  age 
to  age  as  a  man,  when  religion  is  in  danger,  and  men  are  in 


82  BRAHMANISM 

need  of  his  deliverance.  In  the  most  important  of  his  numerous 
incarnations,  he  was  miraculously  born  of  a  mortal  woman, 
reared  in  the  lowly  home  of  a  cowherd,  and  known  as  Krishna. 
He  performed  many  miracles,  had  sixteen  thousand  wives,  and 
was  renowned  for  his  irregular  amours.  Krishna  is  variously 
interpreted  as  basely  erotic  and  as  a  "God  of  Love"  in  such 
a  sense  as  a  Christian  might  use  the  term.  He  is  frequently 
worshipped  as  a  child,  and  in  this  form  makes  an  appeal  in 
some  ways  similar  to  that  of  the  infant  Jesus  in  Catholic  lands. 
He  is  known  as  the  "Holy  Child,"  "Gentle  Shepherd  of  the 
People,"  "Wise  Counsellor,"  "Blessed  Lord,"  "tender  Lover 
and  Saviour,"  etc. 

It  is  not  hard  to  understand  why  the  masses  in  India  have 
preferred  as  agencies  for  the  conservation  of  their  values  these 
personal  human  gods,  rather  than  the  impersonal  Brahma. 
The  man  who  seeks  success  in  a  business  transaction  or  the 
recovery  of  his  sick  child  may  come  to  the  temple  and  ask 
Shiva's  help,  and  feel  confident  that  he  will  receive  it.  The 
sorrowing  mother  can  be  comforted  with  the  thought  that  her 
dead  child  is  now  with  the  Great  Mother  (Kali,  Durga)  as 
can  also  the  young  girl  be  comforted  with  a  similar  hope  for 
herself  when  she  resolutely  sacrifices  her  life  to  aid  her  father 
and  further  the  cause  of  social  reform,  8. 

On  one  side  Hinduism  is  wonderfully  successful  in  finding  in 
gods  the  means  for  the  conservation  of  values.  The  gods  appar- 
ently are  ready  to  conserve  all  values  sought  by  all  men.  On 
the  other  side  Hinduism  appears  to  be  a  lamentable  failure. 
It  fails  to  make  religion  emphatically  serve  the  cause  of  right- 
eousness. The  gods  are  unmoral  (not  immoral)  and  unclearly, 
if  at  all,  serve  to  teach  men  to  prefer  good  to  evil.  On  this 
side  it  might  even  be  asked  if  Hinduism  is  not  to  be  classed 
with  the  nature  religions  rather  than  the  ethical  religions. 
Prostitution  is  a  regular  feature  in  some  of  the  temples.  Ideas 
and  practises  that  involve  animism,  magic,  even  fetichism,  hard- 
ily persist.  Images  of  gods  are  dressed,  fed,  bathed  and  taken 
for  afternoon  drives  in  ways  that  are  inconceivably  crude  and 
naive.  The  same  gods,  who  for  baser  folk  conserve  the  values 
of  eroticism  and  theft,  are  earnestly  worshipped  by  people  of 
high  moral  principles  who  obtain  from  them  aid  and  support  in 
all  the  trials  of  life,  and  in  struggles  for  the  moral  and  spiritual 
•values  recognized  by  all  good  men  and  women  of  civilized 
nations.  It  is  scarcely  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  there  is 


WHY  BRAHMANISM  FAILED  83 

nothing  that  anyone  (however  good  or  bad  he  may  be)  thinks 
of  as  a  value  and  desires,  that  he  cannot  seek  with  the  aid  of  a 
respectable  Hindu  god  or  goddess, — from  success  in  theft  or 
seduction  to  forgiveness  of  sins,  freedom  from  rebirths  and  a 
life  of  immortal  blessedness!  In  modern  Hinduism  all  values 
appear  to  be  socially  recognized,  so  far  as  the  gods  are  con- 
cerned. Hinduism  thus  only  too  readily  recognizes  that  there 
is  a  measure  of  truth  in  all  religions,  from  those  of  wild  hill  folk 
whose  obscene  and  bloodthirsty  deities  can  be  regarded  as  mani- 
festations of  Shiva  to  those  of  Buddhists  and  Christians,  the 
founders  of  whose  religions  are  readily  acceptable  as  incarna- 
tions of  Vishnu, — incarnations  inferior,  of  course,  to  Krishna, 
the  seducer  of  countless  milkmaids! 

Yoga  asceticism  has  been  more  successful  than  philosophical 
Brahmanism  in  holding  the  popular  attention.  India  is  full 
of  ascetics — five  million  or  more,  according  to  the  census  of 
1901 — who  engage  in  all  sorts  of  severe  austerities:  fasting, 
keeping  the  arms  perpetually  upraised  or  the  face  continually 
turned  to  the  sky  until  muscles  stiffen  and  no  other  position 
remains  possible;  allowing  the  nails  to  grow  through  clenched 
hands,  unfitting  a  man  for  work  of  any  sort ;  lying  upon  spikes ; 
refusing  to  wash  the  face,  comb  the  hair  or  bathe,  or  wear 
clothes ;  as  well  as  mechanical  means  of  self-hypnosis  for  the 
sake  of  gaining  conquest  of  self  and  union  with  the  divine.  A 
few  of  these  ascetics  are  honestly  seeking  to  cultivate  a  higher 
life  by  these  pathetically  futile  methods.  The  majority,  how- 
ever, are  rascally  beggars  and  impostors  who  make  an  easy 
living  by  appearing  in  public  where  they  ostentatiously  engage 
in  such  austerities  and  condescend  to  accept  the  gifts  which 
the  credulously  pious  bestow  upon  them. 

VI — Concluding  Remarks 

Suggestive  as  is  philosophical  Brahmanism  to  the  student, 
and  admirable  as  it  is  in  many  ways  as  the  first  attempt  to 
develop  a  redemptive  religion,  it  is  evident  why  it  was  bound 
to  fail.  Religion  is  a  product  of  the  social  life ;  it  cannot  thrive 
unless  it  can  remain  an  organic  part  of  the  life  of  an  entire 
people.  If  it  becomes  the  private  possession  of  a  highly  culti- 
vated class,  and  is  inaccessible  in  its  higher  insights  to  the 
masses  of  men,  it  will  be  bound  ultimately  to  fail.  The  masses 
are  in  the  majority,  and  the  purer  faith  of  the  esoteric  few 
will  in  time  become  corrupted  by  the  baser  notions  of  the  many. 


84  BRAHMANISM 

Only  through  active  service  to  the  needs  of  all  can  a  religion 
permanently  be  successful  in  maintaining  itself.  And  a  religion 
cannot  endure  in  its  higher  forms,  if  it  idly  regards  the  lower 
forms  of  religion  in  the  _i.iion  with  complacent  toleration,  and 
makes  no  honest  missionary  effort  to  enlighten  all  and  bring 
them  up  to  higher  levels.  If  a  lofty  religion  could  anywhere 
in  the  world  have  been  maintained  uncorrupted  as  the  exclusive 
possession  of  a  privileged  class,  this  would  have  been  the  case 
in  India,  where,the  higher  castes  are  in  large  measure  segregated 
from  the  lower  castes.  But  religion  is  bound  under  anv  con- 
ditions to  be  rather  democratic;  the  opinions  of  the  majority 
are  bound  in  the  end  to  prevail  and  influence  the  minority.  If  a 
minority  wishes  to  preserve  its  more  enlightened  religious  con- 
ceptions, whether  of  moral  values  or  of  conserving  agency,  it 
must  share  them  with  the  majority. 

This  is  as  true  in  America  to-day  as  it  ever  was  in  India. 
If  religious  liberals  hope  to  preserve  their  more  scientific  con- 
ceptions of  God  and  their  emphasis  upon  the  moral  values  of 
toleration,  social  service  and  progress,  they  cannot  permit  the 
masses  in  church  and  synagogue  to  go  on  unenlightened. 
The  future  of  religion  will  never  be  assured  in  this  country  so 
long  as  more  intelligent  worshippers  are  indifferent  to  the 
obligation  upon  all  true  Christians  and  Jews  to  make  their 
places  of  worship  frequented  by  all  classes  and  strata  of 
society.  Let  us  not  permit  enlightened  religion,  whether  Prot- 
estant, Catholic,  or  Jewish,  to  become  a  sort  of  philosophical 
Brahmanism, — the  possession  of  a  cultivated  few,  who  do  not 
care  to  disturb  the  cruder  notions  and  simpler  faith  of  their 
less  educated  brothers  and  sisters,  and  who  are  indifferent  to 
the  great  call  for  social  service  and  juster  economic  and  cul- 
tural opportunities  for  the  masses.  The  fate  of  philosophical 
Brahmanism  in  India  should  be  instructive  to  us  in  America 

to-day. 

REFERENCES 

*G.   F.  MOORE,  History  of  Religion.   Chapters   XI-XIV. 
*E.  W.   HOPKINS,  History  of  Religion.     Chapters  XI,  XIII. 
E.  W.  HOPKINS,  The  Religions  of  India. 

*MONIEB    MoNiER-WrLLiAjrs,    Brahmanism    and    Hinduism. 
*GEORGE  A.  BARTON,  Religions  of  the  World,  Chapters  VIII,  X. 

PAUL  DEUSSEN^  The  Philosophy  of  the  Upanishads.  The  System  of  the 
Vedanta.  Outline  of  the  Vedanta. 

J.  B.  PRATT,  Psychology  of  Religious  Belief.  Chapter  IV.  India  and 
Its  Faiths. 

*J.  N.  FAEQTTHAH,  The  Crown  of  Hinduism. 
*L.  T.  HOBHOUSE,  Morals  in  Evolution,  Part  II,  Chapter  III. 
Sacred  Books   of   the   East:     "Vedi'c   Hymns,"   "Brahmanas,"    "Upani- 
shads," "Code  of  Manu,"  "Vedanta,"  "Bhagavad  Gita,"  etc. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BUDDHISM 
I — Introduction 

BUDDHISM  arose  in  India  about  five  centuries  before  thej 
Christian  era.  Its  relation  to  Brahmanism  has  been  compared 
with  that  of  Christianity  to  Judaism  or  of  Protestantism  to 
the  medieval  Latin  church.  Buddhism  was  a  movement  for 
deeper  moral  earnestness  and  spirituality,  for  the  purification 
of  abuses  and  the  abolishment  of  legalism  and  formalism  in 
creed  and  ritual,  for  the  spiritual  equality  of  all  men  in 
opposition  to  religious  distinctions  based  on  caste  and  rank,  and 
for  a  general  awakening  from  the  spiritual  lethargy  that  had 
fallen  over  India. 

The  historic  founder  of  Buddhism  was  Prince  Siddartha,  of 
the  Gautama  family,  usually  referred  to  as  Gautama- Siddartha. 
He  was  the  son  of  a  rajah  of  the  Sakya  clan,  who  occupied  the 
region  at  the  foot  of  the  Himalyas  which  is  now  Nepal,  as  well 
as  districts  of  India  immediately  adjacent.  He  lived  approxi- 
mately from  B.  C.  560  to  480.  Siddartha  was  in  every  sense 
one  of  the  greatest,  wisest,  and  best  of  men  who  have  ever  lived. 
He  has  been  loved  and  revered  by  more  human  beings  in  more 
lands  than  any  other  man,  with  the  exception  of  Jesus  of 
Nazareth.  The  followers  of  Siddartha  refer  to  him  by  various 
epithets,  as  the  Buddha  (the  Enlightened  or  Awakened  One), 
the  Tathagata  (one  who  like  his  predecessors  has  come  into 
the  world  to  bring  the  true  doctrine  to  light),  Bhagava  (the 
Blessed  Lord),  and  Sasta  (the  Teacher,  or  Master). 

To  become  a  Buddhist,  in  the  countries  in  which  the  religion 
retains  most  of  its  original  purity,  requires  a  public  profession 
of  one's  faith,  by  reciting  the  "Refuge"  formula,  viz. — "I  take 
my  refuge  in  the  Buddha.  I  take  my  refuge  in  the  Doctrine 
(Dhamma).  I  take  my  refuge  in  the  Brotherhood  (Sangha)." 
We  may  arrive  at  some  idea  of  what  the  earlier  Buddhism  was 
by  examining  in  order  the  facts  on  which  these  three  articles 
of  faith  are  based. 

II — The  Buddha 

Western  scholars  are  now  generally  agreed  that  the  Buddha 

85 


86  BUDDHISM 

conception  does  not  owe  its  origin  to  a  sun  myth,  but  to  the 
historical  man,  Prince  Siddartha.      There  is  little  doubt  that 
the  main  facts  of  his  life  and  character  may  be  extracted  from 
the  sacred  scripture  (the  Pitakas).     It  is  only  necessary  to 
discount  as  legendary  the  lavish  embellishments — such  as  the 
miracles,  the  impossible  richness  and  extravagance  of  the  royal 
court  in  which  he  was  reared,  and  the  numbers  and  rank  of  the 
converts   gained   to   the   faith  during   his   life   time — and   the 
details   that   remain   furnish   a   sufficiently   accurate    account. 
Siddartha  was  the  son  of  a  petty  chief,  and  when  young  was 
married   to   his   first   cousin,  the  daughter   of   a   neighboring 
rajah.      When   about   twenty- nine   he   passed   through    severe 
spiritual  struggles,  and  at  last  forsook  his  home  and  sought 
some  way  of  salvation.      He  studied  under  the  best  teachers 
available  (probably  of  the  Samkya  sect),  1,  but  got  no  satisfac- 
tion.    He  then  zealously  practised  Yoga,  1,  for  six  years,  but 
found  himself  merely  physically  weakened  by  excessive  fasting 
and  in  no  way  spiritually  enlightened.     When  about  thirty-five 
he  passed  through   another  great  crisis  under   a  Bodhi  tree 
where   he   experienced    a    remarkable    conversion.      All    of   his 
doubts  and  difficulties  disappeared,  and  he  gained  great  inward 
peace  and  contentment  of  soul.     He  had  found  the  way  of 
salvation  in  a  manner  simpler  intellectually  than  any  form  of 
philosophical   Brahmanism,  more  normal  physically  than  the 
ascetic  austerities  of  Yoga,  and  on  a  higher  moral  and  spiritual 
plane  than  either.      Should  he  continue  to  live  a  quiet  and 
retired  life  in  calmness  and  serenity,  now  that  at  last  he  had 
gained  happiness?     Or  should  he  go  out  into  the  world  and 
proclaim  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation?     At  first  he  hesitated, 
doubting  if  it  would  be  possible  to  induce  others  to  believe 
him,  but  he  decided  to  make  the  attempt.     He  met  with  imme- 
diate  success,   so   convincing  was   his   sincerity,   so    clear  his 
teachings,  and  so  inspiring  his  personality.    He  gathered  about 
him  a  company  of  followers  whom  he  organized  into  a  monastic 
order.    For  some  forty-five  successive  years  he  and  his  brother 
monks  during  the  dry  season  went  about  on  foot  preaching  the 
faith  all  over  that  part  of  India,  while  he  instructed  the  monks 
during  the  rainy  season.     He  lived  to  extreme  old  age,  and 
enjoyed   the   satisfaction   of   knowing   that   his    religion   had 
become    firmly    established,    and    that    his    monks    perfectly 
understood  and  accepted  his  doctrine  and  were  free  from  doubts 
difficulties  concerning  it.     He  died  among  his  disciples, 


THE  BUDDHA  87 

whom  he  had  taught  not  to  mourn  him,  but  to  think  of  him 
as  having  passed  into  eternal  rest  and  bliss,  to  which  they  would 
ultimately  also  arrive.  Shortly  before  his  death  he  said  to 
them — "There  may  be  some  among  you,  who  will  think  after 
I  am  gone :  Our  teacher  is  dead ;  we  have  no  longer  any  guide. 
But  it  is  not  thus  you  should  think.  The  doctrines  I  have 
taught  you  and  the  rules  of  the  Brotherhood  I  have  laid  down 
for  you,  these  are  to  be,  after  I  am  gone,  your  teacher  and 
guide."  His  last  words  were  these:  "Brethren,  keep  in  mind 
those  words  of  mine: — Whatever  is  born  perishes.  Strive 
unceasingly  for  your  deliverance." 

Such  are  the  facts  of  the  Buddha's  life  as  modern  rationalistic 
higher  critics  leave  them.  Nor  need  an  intelligent  Buddhist 
object  greatly  to  this  emasculation.  The  Pitakas  are  not 
regarded  by  orthodox  believers  as  infallible  or  inerrant.  The 
truth  of  the  Buddha's  teaching  is  not  thought  essentially  to 
depend  upon  the  testimony  of  miracles  or  the  fulfilment  of 
prophecies.  So  if  the  miracles  and  prophetic  fulfilments  be 
eliminated  from  the  Buddhist  scriptures  little  harm  is  done. 
The  serene  and  lofty  personality  of  the  Buddha  himself 
remains,  and  the  doctrine  that  he  taught  is,  in  the  opinion  of 
Buddhists,  so  clear  and  convincing  that  it  needs  only  to  be 
thoroughly  understood  to  be  accepted. 

The  place  of  the  Buddha  himself  is  different  from  that 
usually  occupied  by  the  founder  of  a  religion.  He  is  in  no 
sense  a  god,  nor  divine,  nor  is  he  a  divinely  inspired  messenger 
or  prophet,  nor  is  he  a  personal  Saviour.  He  is  a  man,  who 
by  his  own  exertions  attained  supreme  knowledge  and  moral 
perfection  for  himself,  and  has  made  known  to  the  world  how 
any  one,  if  he  perseveres  faithfully,  may  ultimately  gain  the 
same  blessings.  No  one,  not  even  the  Buddha,  can  do  anything 
to  effect  the  salvation  of  another  man.  Each  human  being 
must  unaided  work  out  his  own  salvation.  The  faithful, 
however,  naturally  feel  gratitude  to  the  Buddha,  for  having 
made  his  way  of  salvation  known  to  man,  and  they  lovingly 
and  reverently  bring  flowers  and  engage  in  meditation  before 
his  statues  much  as  we  might  do  before  a  statue  or  picture  of 
a  beloved  and  revered  American,  like  Washington  or  Lincoln. 

The  personal  character  of  the  Buddha  is  that  of  a  man  first 
consumed  with  horror  at  the  vastness  of  human  suffering,  and 
then  gladdened  and  rendered  serene,  calm  and  confident  when 
he  had  discovered,  as  he  believed,  the  means  of  deliverance  from 


88  BUDDHISM 

sorrow.  He  appears  everywhere  after  his  enlightenment  as 
calm,  tender,  wise,  hospitable  and  forgiving.  He  lives  in  the 
same  simple  and  unpretentious  manner  as  the  monks,  clad  like 
them  in  the  humble  yellow  robes  of  the  order,  and  starts  out 
every  morning  begging  his  food.  If  he  is  unemotional,  this  is 
because  he  is  so  utterly  self-possessed  that  nothing  could  disturb 
him,  but  he  is  always  considerate  to  the  utmost  of  those  about 
him.  In  fact,  the  immediate  cause  of  his  death  was  due  to 
eating  dried  pork  which  had  been  set  before  the  aged  man  by 
a  kindly  but  ignorant  host  who  would  have  been  embarrassed 
had  the  food  been  declined.  His  method  of  instruction  is 
largely  in  the  dialogue  form,  reminding  one  somewhat  of 
Socrates;  but  he  did  not  enjoy  the  good  fortune  of  the  latter 
in  having  a  Plato  to  record  the  conversations.  In  some  respects 
he  may  be  said  to  stand  midway  between  Socrates  and  Jesus. 
Like  Socrates,  he  merely  professes  to  be  a  teacher,  and  seeks 
to  convince  his  pupils  by  argument.  He  claims  for  himself 
(according  .to  the  higher  critics  be  it  understood)  no  super- 
natural origin  or  authority.  Like  Jesus,  he  is  the  founder 
of  a  religion  and  not  primarily  a  philosopher,  and  the  attitude 
of  his  companions  is  that  of  disciples  rather  than  pupils.  In 
consequence  the  sacred  writings  became  embellished,  as  we  have 
seen,  with  supernatural  events,  as  was  not  the  case  with  the 
accounts  of  Socrates. 

Ill — The  Doctrine 

What  Siddartha  sought  was  the  solution  of  the  problem 
of  evil  and  suffering.  He  could  not  be  happy  in  a  life  in 
which  there  is  so  much  sorrow  and  disappointment,  nor  in  a 
state  in  which  man  is  destined  to  future  rebirths  which  also 
are  certain  to  contain  much  misery.  He  sought  some  means 
of  mental  discipline  and  some  form  of  spiritual  insight  that 
would  afford  him  peace  and  serenity  here  and  hereafter.  The 
essential  outlines  of  his  doctrine  of  salvation  are  recorded  in 
the  Dhamma-KaJcka-ppavattana-sutta  ("The  Foundation  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Righteousness"),  which  purports  to  be  the 
sermon  which  he  delivered  near  Benares  at  the  beginning  of 
his  ministry,  to  the  five  mendicants  with  whom  he  had  earlier 
practised  Yoga,  and  who  were  among  his  first  converts. 

According  to  this  discourse,  all  individual  finite  existence  is 
bound  up  in  sorrow.  Hence  the  "four  noble  truths."  The  first 
of  these  is  the  "noble  truth  concerning  suffering."  Birth, 
decay,  disease  and  death  are  all  painful,  and  so  are  union  with 


THE  DOCTRINE  89 

the  unpleasant,  separation  from  the  pleasant,  and  all  unsatisfied 
desires.  The  five  khandas,  or  material  and  mental  aggregates 
that  constitute  an  individual  person,  are  all  painful.  (In  other 
words,  pain  inevitably  results  from  existence  as  an  individual.) 
The  second  is  the  "noble  truth  concerning  the  origin  of 
suffering."  This  is  due  to  craving  for  the  gratification  of  the 
passions,  for  future  life  (as  a  finite  individual),  and  for 
ordinary  worldly  success  in  this  life.  (That  is,  all  desires 
centered  about  the  self,  and  consequently  more  or  less  tinctured 
with  selfishness,  are  the  causes  of  human  suffering.)  The  third 
"noble  truth"  is  that  "concerning  the  destruction  of  suffering." 
There  must  be  absolute  destruction  of  every  selfish  and 
self-seeking  desire  in  order  to  encompass  the  destruction  of 
suffering.  The  fourth  "noble  truth"  points  out  "the  way 
which  leads  to  the  destruction  of  suffering."  This  way  is  the 
pursuit  of  the  noble  eight-fold  path  of  "right  views, 
aspirations,  speech,  conduct,  livelihood,  effort,  mindfulness  and 
contemplation." 

In  this  particular  discourse  the  eight-fold  path  is  not  further 
described  in  detail.  The  Buddha  proceeds  to  explain  that  these 
discoveries  of  his  have  not  been  made  by  studying  tradition, 
but  by  his  own  intellectual  perception,  knowledge,  understand- 
ing and  wisdom.  Through  his  own  unaided  efforts  he  has 
discovered  the  truth,  acted  upon  it,  gained  deliverance  from 
all  selfish  desires,  and  so  now  enjoys  calmness  and  rest  in  this 
life  and  is  assured  that  he  will  escape  further  rebirths.  The 
right  life  for  a  monk  who  has  renounced  the  world  is  a  middle 
path  between  sensuous  enjoyments  and  extreme  asceticism  and 
mortification. 

Nirvana  is  the  name  given  to  the  state  of  supreme  enlighten- 
ment and  bliss,  when  all  the  fetters  binding  one  to  the  world 
have  been  broken,  and  one  is  an  Arahat  (saint),  free  from 
all  desires  while  living,  and'destined  upon  death  never  again  to 
become  incarnated  in  a  mortal  body.  The  fact  that  Nirvana 
can  be  attained  and  enjoyed  in  this  life  is  thought  by  many 
interpreters  to  make  it  clear  that  it  is  not  as  is  sometimes 
alleged,  a  state  of  utter  annihilation.  It  would  seem,  since 
the  same  term  is  applied  to  a  state  attainable  in  this  life  and 
a  state  after  death,  that  the  two  states  must  be  quite  similar. 
Yet  the  denial  of  the  existence  of  a  substantial  soul  and  the 
insistence  that  with  the  attainment  of  Nirvana  the  khandas 
that  constitute  finite  individuality  are  destroyed  seem  to  make 


90  BUDDHISM 

it  difficult  to  see  how  it  can  be  a  state  of  personal  immortality. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  cannot  be  a  state  in  which  the  individual 
becomes  absorbed  in  God  or  the  world  soul,  the  goal  of 
philosophical  Brahmanism  and  many  forms  of  western  mysti- 
cism and  pantheism — since  primitive  Buddhism  denies  the 
existence  of  any  such  world  soul  or  God.  Gautama  Siddartha 
discouraged  all  speculation  about  ultimates  such  as  Nirvana, 
the  essential  nature  of  the  universe,  whether  or  not  it  had  a 
creator,  and  its  final  destiny.  The  fundamental  thing  for  man 
is  to  gain  a  peaceful  state  of  existence  that  will  be  perpetually 
free  from  pains  and  desires  and  rebirths  into  finite  existence. 
That  for  him  seemed  the  one  great  good, — the  permanent 
release  from  sorrow, — and  attention  should  not  be  distracted 
by  idle  speculation. 

It  is  therefore  impossible  to  give  a  precise  definition  of 
Nirvana  that  would  be  accepted  by  all  Buddhists.  It  can  at 
least  be  said,  however,  that  it  is  a  state  of  calmness  and  serenity 
of  mind  attainable  in  this  life  in  which  a  person  is  free  from 
envy,  anger,  jealousy,  and  all  forms  of  selfish  desires.  He  is 
not  only  imperturbable,  he  is  also  full  of  love  and  gentleness 
for  all  living  beings — men,  animals,  spirits,  gods,  and  even 
demons.  He  is  assured  that  he  will  have  no  future  rebirths. 
His  personal  character,  of  course,  is  spotless.  "The  kingdom 
of  heaven  that  is  within  a  man,  the  peace  that  passeth  under- 
standing, is  the  nearest  analogy  to  the  Buddhist  Nirvana 
which  I  know  of  in  Western  thought,"  says  Rhys  Davids,  2. 

The  law  of  Karma  is  similar  to  that  of  philosophical 
Brahmanism.  All  deeds,  good  and  bad,  work  out  their  moral 
recompense,  either  in  this  or  in  a  future  state  of  existence. 
Good  deeds  give  "merit"  and  make  possible  a  better  state  on 
one's  next  rebirth ;  evil  deeds  condemn  one  to  a  worse  state. 
The  universe  is  absolutely  governed  by  laws  of  moral  justice, 
which  for  the  Buddhist  are  as  inherent  in  the  nature  of  things 
as  is  gravitation  for  the  modern  physicist.  What  a  man  sows 
must  he  also  reap,  as  a  matter  of  natural  law.  In  this  respect, 
at  least,  Buddhism  is  not  pessimistic.  It  believes  implicitly  in 
the  fundamental  justice  of  the  world  order.  This  is  undoubtedly 
a  moral  universe. 

Since  salvation  is  worked  out  by  one's  own  efforts,  apart 
from  divine  interference,  primitive  Buddhism  is  sometimes 
described  as  an  atheistic  religion.  There  is  no  place  in  it  for 
prayers  to  a  deity,  or  to  the  Buddha  himself.  Meditation  and 


THE  DOCTRINE  91 

spiritual  exercises  and  faithful  practise  of  moral  precepts 
alone  are  possible.  The  existence  of  beings  superior  to  men 
(gods  and  angels  as  well  as  demons)  is  admitted.  But  none 
of  these,  any  more  than  a  fellow  man,  can  either  further  or 
hinder  one's  progress  in  working  out  one's  own  salvation.  And 
to  attain  the  peace  of  Nirvana  is  more  blessed  than  to  be  a  god. 

Roughly  speaking,  Buddhism  may  be  said  to  have  anticipated 
the  position  held  by  most  phychologists  and  philosophers  since 
the  time  of  David  Hume  (f!776),  that  there  is  no  soul,  if 
by  a  soul  is  meant  the  Atman  of  Brahmanism,  or  some  sort  of 
spiritual  substance  that  exists  independent  of  the  brain  and  of 
changing  states  of  consciousness.  Hume  showed  that  it  is 
impossible  to  discover  in  consciousness  any  such  separate  Ego 
or  self  or  soul  different  in  substance  to  one's  changing  states  of 
consciousness,  3.  An  old  man  is  identical  with  a  child  born 
eighty  years  ago,  not  by  any  tissues  in  his  body  nor  by  any 
mental  states  that  have  persisted  unchanged  through  all  the 
years  of  his  life.  The  identity  is  one  of  function.  The  relation 
of  an  individual  in  this  life  to  the  individual  whom  his  karma 
and  desires  will  next  bring  into  existence  is  comparable  to  the 
relation  between  a  child  and  the  man  into  whom  he  grows.  There 
is  functional  continuity,  but  not  continuity  of  either  physical  or 
mental  structures.  The  denial  of  the  existence  of  a  soul  in  this 
technical  sense  does  not  lessen  the  Buddhist's  fear  of  an 
unfavorable  rebirth,  nor  his  desire  to  accumulate  merit  and  so 
pass  into  a  higher  state  of  existence  next  time,  and  ultimately 
to  attain  Nirvana. 

The  Buddha  did  not  teach  his  doctrines  in  their  fulness  to 
beginners,  especially  to  those  who  desired  to  continue  in  the 
world  as  laymen  and  not  become  members  of  the  Brotherhood. 
For  the  Buddhist  layman,  who  wishes  to  lead  a  satisfactory 
moral  life,  to  acquire  merit  so  as  to  earn  a  favorable  state  of 
existence  in  his  next  rebirth,  and  to  know  that  after  a  succession 
of  rebirths  he  ultimately  will  reach  Nirvana,  the  chief  require- 
ments are  acceptance  of  the  triple  "Refuge"  profession  of 
faith,  in  which  he  declares  his  loyalty  to  the  Buddha,  the 
Doctrine,  and  the  monastic  Brotherhood,  and  obedience  to  the 
first  five  "commandments."  The  first  commandment,  "Thou 
shalt  not  kill,"  forbids  the  taking  of  all  life,  even  animal  life. 
Buddhists  are  vegetarians.  Originally,  at  least,  hunting  and 
warfare  were  believed  to  be  wrong,  and  they  are  still  regarded 


92  BUDDHISM 

with  extreme  disfavor  in  southern  Buddhist  lands.  The  second 
commandment,  "Thou  shalt  not  steal,"  forbids  all  forms  of 
dishonesty  and  enjoins  liberality,  even  to  the  extent,  in  extreme 
cases,  of  being  willing  to  give  one's  life  for  others.  The  third 
commandment,  "Thou  shalt  not  be  unchaste,"  forbids  fornica- 
tion and  adultery  upon  the  part  of  laymen,  and  enjoins  celibacy 
upon  monks.  The  fourth  commandment,  "Thou  shalt  not  lie," 
forbids  all  falsehood,  and  enjoins  saying  good  of  one's 
neighbor,  and  what  is  conducive  to  harmony.  The  fifth  com- 
mandment, "Thou  shalt  not  drink  intoxicating  liquors," 
probably  originally  enjoined  complete  total  abstinence  for 
one's  self,  and  the  duty  to  disapprove  of  their  use  by  others. 
The  command  is  sometimes  liberally  interpreted  to  permit 
laymen  to  use  wines  and  malt  liquors  in  moderation.  It  is 
agreed  that  it  forbids  the  use  of  distilled  liquors  absolutely, 
and  that  of  any  drink  to  a  state  of  approaching  intoxication. 

To  those  who  will  keep  three  additional  commandments  "a 
greater  reward  will  be  obtained" — more  favorable  rebirths  and 
a  speedier  attainment  of  Nirvana.  The  sixth  commandment 
is  "Thou  shalt  not  eat  food  at  unseasonable  times"  (i.  e.,  after 
the  mid-day  meal).  The  seventh  commandment  is  "Thou  shalt 
not  wear  garlands  or  use  perfumes."  The  eighth  command- 
ment is,  "Thou  shalt  sleep  on  a  mat  spread  upon  the  ground." 
Conformity  to  these  three  commandments  is  optional  for  the 
layman,  but  is  praiseworthy,  especially  upon  the  weekly  holy 
days.  In  some  respects  these  three  commandments  might  be 
compared  to  Christian  observance  of  Lent.  To  deny  oneself 
certain  not  immoral  but  unnecessary  pleasures  will  give  one 
more  time  for  meditation  on  religious  matters,  and  will  be 
valuable  for  one's  further  religious  development.  The  ten 
"vows"  are  similar,  and  in  addition  include  among  the 
practises  optional  for  laymen,  but  binding  upon  the  monks, 
the  refusal  of  gold  and  silver  and  the  adoption  of  a  life  of 
poverty. 

One  criticism  of  the  Buddhist  body  of  doctrine  may  be 
considered  before  we  pass  on  to  other  topics, — its  pessimism. 
As  has  already  been  pointed  out,  the  doctrine  of  Karma  is  not 
really  pessimistic.  Without  maintaining  belief  in  an  omnipo- 
tent God  of  the  Jewish,  Christian,  or  Moslem  types,  Buddhism 
is  not  less  certain  of  the  fundamental  justice  and  righteousness 
of  the  world  order.  The  Buddha  on  this  point  was  more 
confident  than  the  writers  of  Job  and  Ecclesiastes.  However, 


THE  DOCTRINE  98 

it  must  be  admitted  that  the  "four  noble  truths"  are  genuinely 
pessimistic,  if  they  are  to  be  taken  literally.  If  they  really 
mean  that  "the  will  to  live"  (the  impulses  that  bring  individual 
lives  into  existence  and  prompt  men  to  seek  advancement  in 
the  world)  is  fundamentally  bound  to  lead  to  sorrow  and 
defeat,  and  that  complete  escape  can  only  be  gained  by 
renunciation  of  the  world  in  a  convent  and  discipline  for  the 
purpose  of  gaining  a  state  of  ultimate  extinction,  the  teaching 
of  the  Buddha  is  pessimistic  to  the  core.  Thus  interpreted, 
the  "four  noble  truths"  are  as  psychologically  false  as  they 
are  ethically  unsound.  It  is  not  true  that  all  striving  and 
desire  are  painful.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  only  painful 
when  they  are  checked  and  impeded.  Successful  striving  is 
pleasurable.  If  all  striving  were  to  cease,  all  consciousness 
would  also  come  to  an  end ;  Nirvana  in  this  case  would  have 
to  be  absolute  extinction  of  conscious  existence.  It  is  true 
that  an  ethics  which  regards  the  supreme  good  in  life  as 
pleasure  is  liable  to  become  pessimistic,  since  pleasant  feelings 
never  endure.  If  you  strive  for  some  object  and  are  successful 
in  endeavoring  to  gain  it,  you  will  feel  pleasure  during  the 
struggle;  but  after  the  object  has  been  gained,  it  will  shortly 
cease  to  afford  you  pleasant  feelings,  because  your  attention 
will  turn  to  something  else  and  you  will  be  striving  for  that. 
No  one  is  more  liable  to  become  thoroughly  pessimistic  than  a 
man  who  devotes  his  whole  time  to  pleasure  seeking.  If  Gautama 
Siddartha  became  such  a  pessimist,  the  legends  must  be  right 
in  saying  that  his  father  placed  him  in  pleasure  palaces,  and 
expected  him  to  be  contented  with  nothing  to  do  but  amuse 
himself.  No  serious  minded  man  or  woman  can  be  happy  in 
a  life  devoted  to  selfish  amusements. 

Nor  does  the  real  happiness  of  life  come  in  turning  one's 
back  on  the  world,  retiring  within  the  recesses  of  one's  own 
inner  consciousness  and  remaining  in  a  state  of  idle  contempla- 
tion. On  the  contrary,  real  happiness  or  satisfaction  is  a 
concomitant  of  earnest  efforts  and  successful  achievements. 
One  sets  out  to  do  something,  and  enjoys  the  efforts  which  he 
makes,  and,  for  the  moment,  the  success  which  crowns  them; 
then  a  new  ambition  arises  before  him  which  his  previous 
success  has  made  possible,  he  achieves  this  in  turn  (or  some- 
thing else,  for  our  plans  often  reshape  themselves  as  our 
experience  continues)  ;  and  so  he  keeps  on  advancing  from  one 
goal  to  another,  until  his  life  draws  to  its  close.  Such  a  life 


94  BUDDHISM 

if  good  from  a  moral  standpoint,  as  any  really  successful  life 
must  be,  always  has  large  satisfactions.  Such  a  life  is  neces- 
sarily a  social  life ;  for  success  in  anything  involves  co-operation 
and  service.  Gautama  Siddartha's  own  life  is  a  good  illustration. 
He  could  not  long  have  remained  contented  if  he  had  tried  to 
live  by  himself  in  solitary  bliss  after  he  had  attained  enlighten- 
ment under  the  Bodhi  tree.  Only  by  doing  as  he  did — going 
out  into  the  world,  sharing  his  goodness  with  others,  and 
building  up  a  great  religious  community  that  brought  a  higher 
life  to  countless  multitudes  of  people — could  this  good  man 
have  retained  his  own  inward  satisfaction.  If  the  "Four  Noble 
Truths"  are  pure  pessimism,  the  Buddha  certainly  practised 
far  better  than  he  preached. 

However,  the  author,  at  any  rate,  is  not  certain  that  the 
"Four  Noble  Truths"  are  really  so  pessimistic  as  they  sound. 
They  certainly  did  not  sadden  the  Buddha's  first  converts. 
And  for  centuries  after  the  Buddha's  decease,  Buddhism 
remained  an  active  missionary  religion.  Buddhism  for  the  first 
thousand  years  of  its  history  has  only  been  excelled  by 
Christianity  in  its  active  service  in  various  forms  of  humani- 
tarianism,  as  well  as  in  promoting  the  advance  of  civilization. 
It  was  only  as  it  became  decadent  that  it  became  apathetic. 
Nor  to  this  day  are  the  people  of  Buddhist  countries  sad  and 
pessimistic.  They  are  as  calm,  cheerful  and  happy  as  the 
adherents  of  any  other  religion,  more  so  than  the  present  day 
adherents  of  the  Hinduism  that  ultimately  supplanted  Buddhism 
in  India.  The  Burmese,  who  to-day  retain  Buddhism  in  as 
pure  a  form  as  any  nation,  are  world  famed  for  their  gaiety 
and  light  heartedness. 

That  Buddhism  should  make  its  adherents  lighthearted  is 
easy  to  see.  It  assures  men  of  the  absolute  justice  of  the 
universe,  and  that  one's  good  works  are  certain  to  be  rewarded. 
Most  men  hope  for  a  future  life  under  better  conditions.  This 
Buddhism  promises  to  all  who  will  follow  its  teachings.  It 
removes  all  kinds  of  superstitious  fears ;  there  is  no  need  to  be 
afraid  of  demons,  ghosts,  angry  gods  or  black  magic,  one's 
own  salvation  rests  entirely  with  oneself.  It  also  frees  men 
from  exploitation  by  a  rapacious  priesthood;  one's  salvation 
can  only  be  worked  out  by  oneself,  and  the  only  clergy  in  the 
religion  are  the  monks,  bound  to  a  life  of  poverty.  The  moral 
teachings  are  simple  and  lofty.  The  Buddha  said  that  to  be 
a  "true  Brahmin" — as  we  might  say,  a  "true  Christian" — is 


95 

not  a  matter  of  birth  or  caste,  but  of  right  living,  and  possible 
for  everyone.  "I  do  not  call  a  man  a  Brahmin  because  of  his 
origin  or  of  his  mother.  .  .  .  Him  I  call  indeed  a  Brahmin 
who,  though  he  has  committed  no  offense,  endures  reproach, 
stripes,  and  bonds.  .  .  Him  I  call  indeed  a  Brahmin  who  is 
tolerant  with  the  intolerant,  mild  with  the  violent,  and  free 
from  greed  among  the  greedy.  Him  I  call  indeed  a  Brahmin 
from  whom  anger  and  hatred,  pride  and  hypocrisy  have  dropped 
like  a  mustard  seed  from  the  point  of  a  needle,"  4.  The  follower 
of  the  Buddha  is  to  follow  the  ideal  goodness  resting  on 
universal  love.  "And  he  lets  his  mind  pervade  one  quarter  of 
the  world  with  thoughts  of  love,  and  so  the  second,  and  so  the 
third,  and  so  the  fourth.  And  thus  the  whole  wide  world, 
above,  below,  around  and  everywhere,  does  he  continue  to 
pervade  with  heart  of  Love,  far-reaching,  grown  great,  and 
beyond  measure,"  5.  And  for  those  more  thoughtful  and 
serious-minded  folk,  who  wish  to  lead  a  life  devoted  to  religious 
thought,  and  so  more  speedily  to  gain  Nirvana,  a  more  perfect 
way  is  provided  by  entrance  into  the  Brotherhood.  It  is  no 
one's  duty  to  sacrifice  his  life  by  entering  a  convent;  indeed, 
for  any  one  to  whom  such  a  course  would  seem  a  sacrifice  and 
not  simply  a  great  privilege,  it  is  not  advised.  This  leads  us 
to  specific  notice  of  the  Brotherhood. 

IV — The  Brotherhood 

One  great  point  of  superiority  of  Buddhism  over  the 
religions  that  preceded  it  was  its  monastic  organization.  The 
monks  devoted  their  whole  time  to  the  study,  practise  and 
teaching  of  the  faith.  It  thus  was  carefully  preserved  in  the 
period  before  it  was  put  into  written  form.  The  vows  assumed 
by  the  monk  were  understood  to  be  not  necessarily  for  life ;  and 
he  was  free  to  leave  the  order  and  again  become  a  layman  at 
any  time  he  desired. 

The  discipline  was  not  austere.  The  prescribed  dress  was  the 
simple  yellow  robes  of  the  order,  and  every  monk  was  expected 
to  go  with  his  begging  bowl  each  morning  to  receive  food  from 
those  who  chose  to  offer  it,  and  the  one  simple  daily  meal  was 
shared  by  the  monks  in  common.  The  monks,  it  must  be 
understood,  were  not  importunate  beggars.  To  give  food  to 
one  of  them  was  a  pious  act  for  a  layman,  which  would  gain 
him  merit.  In  being  offered  the  opportunity  to  contribute,  the 
layman  was  afforded  a  privilege.  He  was  under  no  obligation 


96  BUDDHISM 

or  under  pressure  of  any  kind,  whatever,  to  give  if  he  did  not 
choose  to  do  so.  Monks  were  forbidden  to  receive  money.  The 
life  of  the  monk,  though  severely  simple,  was  normal  and 
healthful  for  persons  leading  such  a  life, — thus  furnishing  a 
favorable  contrast  to  the  ascetics  of  modern  Hinduism. 

There  was  no  hierarchy  in  the  Brotherhood.  The  discipline 
was  chiefly  self-imposed.  Each  had  his  own  salvation  to  work 
out  for  himself.  When  the  brothers  gathered  together,  one  of 
the  eldest  presided,  but  he  exercised  no  such  powers  as  a 
Christian  abbot.  Public  confession  was  expected,  at  meetings 
held  for  the  purpose,  of  any  faults  a  brother  had  committed. 
Such  confession  was  for  the  strengthening  of  character. 
Absolution,  of  course,  is  impossible  on  Buddhist  principles ;  the 
law  of  karma  takes  its  inevitable  course. 

Women  could  join  the  Sisterhood.  This  was  similarly 
organized,  and  was  subject  to  the  Brotherhood.  Primitive 
Buddhism,  like  other  religions  originating  in  Asia,  did  not  in 
its  inception  place  women  on  quite  an  equal  plane  with  men. 
Gautama  is  said  to  have  been  reluctant  at  first  to  receive  them 
into  his  order.  Though  somewhat  prejudiced  against  women 
by  the  traditions  of  the  East,  the  fundamental  democracy  of 
Buddhism  is  really  antagonistic  to  discriminations  based  on 
sex.  The  oft  quoted  conversation  between  Ananda  and  the 
Tathagata,  in  the  "Book  of  the  Great  Decease"  appears  simply 
to  contain  such  good  natured  and  half  humorous  advice  as  a 
wise  Christian  abbot  might  smilingly  give  to  a  brother  who 
asked  his  counsel:  "How  are  we  to  conduct  ourselves,  Lord, 
with  regard  to  womankind?"  "Don't  see  them,  Ananda." 
"But  if  we  should  see  them,  what  are  we  to  do?"  "Abstain  from 
speech,  Ananda."  "But  if  they  should  speak  to  us,  Lord,  what 
are  we  to  do?"  "Keep  wide  awake,  Ananda."  We  may  feel  confi- 
dent that,  so  far  as  it  has  exercised  any  influence  either  way,  the 
coming  of  Buddhism  has  raised  rather  than  lowered  the  position 
of  women  in  comparison  with  what  it  previously  had  been. 
Gautama,  like  Jesus,  was  always  considerate  in  his  treatment 
of  women.  On  one  occasion  he  did  not  even  hesitate  to  accept 
for  himself  and  the  brothers  the  hospitality  of  a  courtesan, 
which  happened  to  be  offered  previous  to  an  invitation  for  the 
same  day  from  men  of  aristocratic  rank. 

The  rules  for  the  brotherhood  are  given  in  detail  in  the 
sacred  books,  and  are  such  as  might  be  expected  for  a  religious 
order.  In  Southern  Buddhist  countries  the  severitv  of  these 


BUDDHIST  HISTORY  97 

rules  has  now  become  somewhat  relaxed.  Wealthy  monasteries 
with  generous  endowments  are  not  now  dependent  on  contribu- 
tions collected  daily  in  begging  bowls.  It  is  the  duty  of  monks 
to  provide  religious  instruction  for  the  young,  and  to  deliver 
discourses,  especially  on  sacred  days,  to  those  who  care  to 
come  to  hear  them.  While  very  willing  to  explain  their  religion, 
to  those  who  come  to  them,  they  have  long  ceased  to  be 
aggressive  propagandists.  Their  reputation  is,  on  the  whole, 
good;  but  many  of  them  are  undoubtedly  lazy  and  ignorant. 

V — Events  in  Buddhist  History 

During  the  centuries  immediately  following  the  death  of 
Gautama  Siddartha,  Buddhism  spread  rapidly  over  India. 
Divisions  arose  from  time  to  time  over  various  points  of 
doctrine,  of  the  discipline  of  the  Brotherhood,  and  of  the  canon 
of  sacred  writings.  Councils  were  sometimes  held  in  the 
endeavor  to  adjust  these  disputes.  Various  sects  came  into 
existence.  Two  main  types  of  Buddhism  became  differentiated, 
— the  Hinayana,  or  conservative  type,  which  adhered  more 
closely  to  the  primitive  faith  of  Siddartha,  and  the  Mdhayana 
in  which  very  great  modifications  took  place  (as  will  be  noted 
later). 

The  most  famous  Buddhist  king  was  Asoka,  a  contemporary 
of  Alexander  the  Great  (about  325  B.  C.).  Of  his  reign  a 
Buddhist  speaker  at  the  World's  Parliament  of  Religions  said : 
"When  Buddhism  flourished  in  India,  the  arts,  sciences  and 
civilization  reached  their  zenith,  as  witnessed  in  the  edicts  and 
monuments  of  Asoka's  reign.  Hospitals  were  first  founded 
for  man  and  beast.  Missionaries  were  sent  to  all  parts  of  the 
world.  Literature  was  encouraged.  Wherever  Buddhism  has 
gone,  the  nations  have  imbibed  its  spirit,  and  the  people  have 
become  gentler  and  milder.  The  slaughter  of  animals  and 
drunkenness  ceased,  and  wars  were  almost  abolished.  .  .  .  The 
monasteries  became  the  seats  of  learning,  and  the  monks  in 
obedience  to  their  Master's  will  disseminated  knowledge  among 
the  people.  .  .  Buddha  was  the  first  to  establish  the  brother- 
hood without  distinction  of  caste  and  race.  .  .  .  The  outcast 
as  well  as  the  prince  was  admitted  to  this  order.  Virtue  was 
the  passport,  not  wealth  and  rank,"  6. 

During  the  reign  of  Asoka,  Buddhism  became  diffused  widely 
over  India,  and  was  introduced  into  Kashmir  and  Ceylon.  To 
the  latter  country  was  brought  a  branch  of  the  sacred  Bodhi 


98  BUDDHISM 

tree  under  which  the  Buddha  had  attained  enlightenment.  This 
tree  is  now  over  two  thousand  years  old.  It  has  been  protected 
by  terraces,  and  stands  twenty  feet  above  the  surrounding  soil, 
while  pillars  of  iron  and  masonry  support  its  outspreading 
branches.  It  is  carefully  watered  in  times  of  drought. 

Burma  was  converted  to  Buddhism  about  450  A.  D.,  Java 
about  650  A.  D.,  and  Siam  in  the  seventh  century,  A.  D. 
Buddhists  of  these  countries,  together  with  Ceylon,  adhere  to 
the  Hinayana  school.  Buddhism  persisted  in  India  until  as 
late  as  the  twelfth  century,  but  by  that  time  it  had  lost  the 
simple  purity  of  the  original  faith.  Monasteries  had  become 
wealthy,  and  held  themselves  aloof  from  the  people.  Buddha 
had  become  to  the  popular  mind  merely  a  grinning  god,  and 
not  so  interesting  a  god  as  Shiva  or  Krishma.  Buddhist  theology 
had  become  technically  metaphysical.  The  spirit  of  the  founder 
had  become  lost.  On  the  other  hand,  the  gods  of  Hinduism 
as  we  have  seen,  were  "human"  and  "loving"  gods  in  bad  as 
well  as  good  senses,  and  would  conserve  all  values,  good  and 
bad,  for  every  one.  And  they  would  accept  the  caste  system, 
which  had  grown  up  in  opposition  to  the  spirit  of  Buddhism. 
So  Buddhism  lost  out  in  India  because,  while  it  no  longer 
retained  its  original  simplicity  and  high  moral  plane,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  spite  of  its  decadence,  it  still  maintained  moral 
distinctions  and  opposed  caste.  It  was  no  longer  good  and 
pure  enough  to  save  India,  nor  depraved  enough  to  be  popular. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  the  Mahayana  development  had 
taken  place  in  India,  and  had  been  transmitted,  as  well  as  the 
rival  Hinayana  faith,  to  China  during  the  first  four  centuries 
of  the  Christian  era,  had  reached  Korea  by  372  A.  D.,  and 
Japan  by  552  A.  D.  Mahayana  Buddhism  passed  through  an 
extraordinary  development  into  Lamaism  in  Thibet  during  the 
ninth  century. 

VI — Merits  and  Defects  of  Primitive  and  Southern 
Buddhism 

On  the  positive  side,  primitive  Buddhism  is  noteworthy  in 
keeping  morality  foremost.  Righteousness  of  conduct  is  what 
the  Buddha  chiefly  emphasized  in  talking  to  laymen.  That  is 
more  important  than  the  details  of  the  new  faith  itself. 
Admirers  of  Buddhism  claim  that  no  other  religion  in  the  history 
of  the  world  has  ever  so  completely  kept  the  ethical  note  to  the 
forefront  in  its  popular  appeals.  Personal  responsibility  for 


MERITS  AND  DEFECTS  99 

one's  own  actions  is  basic  in  the  doctrine  of  karma,  as  well  as 
the  fundamental  righteousness  of  natural  law.  Self  reliance 
is  imperative  in  a  faith  that  makes  no  room  for  the  goodness 
or  love  of  god  or  saint  to  take  the  place  of  one's  own  lack 
of  virtue.  The  ritualism,  magic,  formalism,  and  various  super- 
stitions, of  which  even  philosophical  Brahmanism  was  unable 
to  purge  itself  entirely,  are  all  done  away  with  even  for  the 
laymen.  For  the  monk,  there  was  too  much  otherworldliness, 
to  be  sure ;  but  the  discipline  was  simple,  not  given  to  austerities, 
with  its  main  emphasis  on  consecrated  living  and  pure  thinking. 

So  we  may  say  that  early  Buddhism  endeavored  to  conserve 
by  religious  means  the  highest  moral  values,  and  these  exclu- 
sively. The  only  rewards  it  offered  were  the  calmness  and 
serenity  of  mind  and  freedom  from  sorrow  that  attend  virtuous 
living  in  this  life,  and  the  assurance  for  the  life  to  come  either 
of  a  more  favorable  rebirth,  or  of  eternal  blessedness  in 
Nirvana. 

The  chief  moral  limitation  in  early  Buddhism,  the  author 
thinks,  is  that  there  is  not  enough  emphasis  on  social  service. 
The  very  fact  that  every  one  must  work  out  his  own  salvation 
unaided  tends  to  make  men  more  or  less  absorbed  in  the  cultiva- 
tion of  their  own  characters.  While  early  Buddhist  teaching 
exhorts  one  to  fill  the  whole  world  with  love,  and  to  be  kind 
and  gentle  to  everybody,  it  puts  no  such  emphasis  on  the  active 
service  of  mankind  as  is  found  in  Christian  and  Jewish 
teaching.  To  be  sure,  Gautama's  own  life  was  completely 
devoted  to  the  service  of  others ;  and  for  the  first  centuries  of 
its  history,  Buddhism  was  active  in  works  of  humanitarianism 
and  progress  at  home,  and  in  missionary  zeal  abroad — as  is 
instanced  by  the  achievements  of  the  reign  of  Asoka  and  also 
the  service  of  Buddhism  rendered  Japan  in  giving  it  its  start 
in  civilization  (just  as  Christianity  brought  civilization  to  the 
Franks,  Saxons,  Goths,  et.  aZ.). 

But  even  in  its  purer  Southern  forms,  Buddhism  has  long 
ceased  to  be  notably  active  in  missionary  effort  or  social  reform. 
The  ethical  emphasis,  too,  is  somewhat  lessened.  In  Burmah, 
more  merit  can  apparently  be  gained  in  the  interest  of  a 
favorable  rebirth  by  erecting  a  praying-platform  than  by 
acts  of  more  social  utility  such  as  the  erection  of  hospitals  and 
schools.  "The  whole  of  Burmah  abounds  with  the  pious 
erections  of  its  sons  and  daughters.  Quite  unexampled  is  the 
pomp  that  reigns  in  such  religious  centers  as  Rangoon, 


100  BUDDHISM 

Mandalay  and  old  Pegue.  Shwe  Dagon,  the  golden  pagoda  of 
Rangoon,  has  not  its  like  for  splendor  in  the  world,  and  many 
a  Burman  joyously  starves  himself  his  life  long  in  order  to  be 
able  to  erect  a  new  praying-hall  upon  its  sacred  platform,"  7. 

VII — Mahayana  Buddhism 

That  others  before  him  had  from  time  to  time  discovered  the 
way  to  salvation,  and  that,  in  future  ages,  whenever  the  faith 
shall  become  dimmed  and  obscured,  another  Buddha  will  appear 
and  start  again  the  wheel  of  salvation  revolving  through  the 
world,  was  probably  believed  by  Gautama  Siddartha  himself.  At 
any  rate,  it  soon  became  the  belief  of  the  early  church.  From 
this  it  was  only  another  step  to  reject  as  the  most  worthy  goal 
of  human  endeavor  the  endeavor  to  seek  ultimately  to  become 
an  Arahat  (saint)  and  enter  Nirvana  by  oneself.  That  is  only 
the  "little  road"  (Hinayana)  as  the  innovators  contemptuously 
called  it.  There  have  been  many  who  have  not  been  content 
in  this  way  quietly  to  pass  out  of  finite  existence  into  Nirvana. 
They  have  sought  the  "great  road"  (Mahay ana),  and  have 
chosen  out  of  love  for  their  fellow  beings  and  desire  to  serve 
them,  to  remain  incarnate  until  the  time  and  opportunity  may 
come  to  them  also  to  become  Buddhas  and  gloriously  serve  all 
living  beings.  Those  who  have  thus  qualified  themselves  to  become 
"future  Buddhas"  (Bohdisattvas),  instead  of  having  the 
dispassionateness  and  aloofness  of  Ardhats  are  inspired  by  an 
active  sympathy  with  suffering  and  a  desire  to  be  of  service. 
Northern  temples  contain  images  of  many  Bohdisattvas,  and 
they  are  worshipped  much  as  the  gods  of  polytheism,  and  for 
other  values  than  merely  spiritual  culture.  It  even  became 
possible  for  old  Indian  gods  to  be  worshipped  by  Mahayanists 
as  Bohdisattvas.  Moreover,  merit  gained  by  the  good  works 
of  a  Bohdisattva  may  be  by  him  transferred  to  the  credit  of  his 
worshippers,  out  of  his  love  and  compassion  for  them, — a 
setting  aside  of  the  law  of  karma.  In  practice  this  has  become 
subject  to  the  same  abuses  as  in  later  medieval  Latin 
Christianity;  "masses"  for  the  dead  are  said  by  the  priests 
for  money;  and  the  credulity  of  the  laity  is  exploited  to  the 
profit  of  the  clergy. 

Another  alteration  in  the  early  faith  made  by  the  Mahayana 
was  in  its  conception  of  the  Buddha.  This  man  whose  own 
claims  for  himself  were  so  simple,  and  who,  according  to  a 
conversation  in  the  "Book  of  the  Great  Decease"  checked  the 


MAHAYANA  101 

ardor  of  a  disciple  who  wished  to  give  him  too  exalted  a 
character,  was  claimed  to  be  superhuman  in  intellectual  and 
moral  perfections.  Along  with  the  now  practically  deified 
Buddha,  the  Doctrine  and  the  Brotherhood  also  became 
personified  as  gods  and  were  represented  in  the  temples  by 
statues. 

In  respect  to  ceremonial  and  ecclesiastical  organization,  the 
nearest  counterpart  to  medieval  Latin  Christianity  is  found 
in  Thibet.  On  its  entrance  to  this  land,  Buddhism  had  to 
assimilate  folk  still  in  the  savage  state,  addicted  to  magic  and 
charms,  a  problem  similar  to  that  which  confronted  Christianity 
when  it  had  to  adapt  itself  to  the  requirements  of  the  northern 
barbarians.  In  the  religious  ceremonial  of  Thibet  are  to  be 
found  shaven  priests,  bells,  rosaries,  images,  pictures,  holy 
water,  gorgeous  vestments,  double  choirs,  processions,  creeds, 
mystic  rites,  incense,  abbots,  monies,  nuns,  worship  of  the 
Virgin,  saints,  angels,  fasts,  confessions,  Purgatory, — all  in 
huge  monasteries  and  magnificent  cathedrals  under  the  direc- 
tion of  a  priestly  hierarchy  governed  by  cardinals  and  the 
Grand  Lama  (the  latter  believed  to  be  the  human  incarnation 
of  a  Bodhisattva).  Endless  repetition  in  a  mechanical  way 
of  sacred  formulae  is  thought  to  be  efficacious.  Prayers  are 
attached  to  a  wheel  or  printed  upon  a  flag ;  as  the  wheel  rotates 
or  the  flag  is  unfurled  by  the  wind  the  same  effects  ensue  as 
if  the  prayer  were  repeated  by  a  worshipper.  This  of  course 
is  crude  magic,  devoid  of  any  genuine  spirituality. 

Another  respect  in  which  the  development  of  Mahayana 
Buddhism  is  analogous  to  Christian  developments,  is  in  its 
conception  of  the  incarnation  of  the  Buddha.  The  Doctrine, 
or  Body  of  the  Law  (Dharmakaya)  came  to  be  thought  of  as 
eternal.  What  Buddhas  do  is  to  discover  it  and  proclaim  it 
to  men.  The  Law  itself  accordingly  became  a  personified  God 
who  looks  with  pity  and  compassion  upon  suffering  mankind, 
and  from  time  to  time  becomes  incarnated  as  a  Buddha.  There 
is 'a  slight  similarity  here  to  the  eternal  Logos  of  the  ancient 
Catholic  church,  who  became  incarnate  as  Jesus,  and  now 
reigns  in  heaven  as  the  triumphant  Christ.  The  parallel  is  by 
no  means  complete.  This  Buddhist  corruption  is  more  similar 
to  the  Vishnu-Krishna  form  of  Hinduism,  with  which  it  may 
have  developed  in  competition,  than  to  anything  Christian. 


102  BUDDHISM 

VIII — Buddhism  in  China  and  Japan 

Not  only  has  Mahayana  Buddhism  furnished  interesting 
parallels  to  Catholic  Christianity.  Among  the  various  Buddhist 
sects  in  China  and  Japan  there  are  two — the  Jodo  and  the 
Shin — which  remind  one  in  some  respects  of  Protestantism. 
Amida  Buddha,  according  to  these  sects,  out  of  love  and  com- 
passion for  mankind,  refused  to  enter  Nirvana,  and  rules  in  a 
heavenly  Paradise  in  the  west.  He  has  promised  that  whosoever 
calls  upon  his  name  in  faith,  in  a  prescribed  manner  shall  on 
his  next  incarnation  be  born  in  this  Paradise,  where  he  shall 
be  made  perfect,  and  later  reach  Nirvana,  8.  Neither  learning 
nor  contemplation,  nor  elaborate  spiritual  exercises  are  neces- 
sary, nor  the  mediation  of  priestly  ritual  and  ceremonies. 
Salvation  is  free  to  householders  as  to  monks,  to  women  as  men. 
All  that  is  necessary  is  "faith  in  the  higher  power  of  Amida." 
When  we  reflect  that  these  sects  arose  in  protest  against  earlier 
Mahayana  Buddhism  with  its  salvation  based  upon  works  and 
merit  gained  through  ritualistic  ceremonies  and  the  mediation 
of  Bodhisattvas,  we  can  see  that  as  in  the  case  of  Lutheranism, 
the  contention  is,  that  there  is  a  divine  Saviour,  faith  in  whom, 
apart  from  works  and  churchly  intervention,  suffices  for  salva- 
tion. The  worship  of  Amida  by  the  Shin  sect  is  pure  and  stern. 
No  one  but  Amida  may  be  worshipped  at  all — there  is  none 
other  name  under  heaven  whereby  one  may  b£  saved, — and 
prayers  should  not  be  addressed  to  him  for  earthly  goods  and 
to  escape  earthly  ills,  all  of  which  are  subject  to  the  law  of 
Karma  (or  natural  law,  as  we  might  say).  But  prayers  of 
thanksgiving  should  be  addressed  to  him  in  gratitude  for  the 
eternal  salvation  he  has  freely  afforded  to  mankind. 

Another  parallel  to  Christianity  is  found  in  the  development 
in  Japan  of  Bushido,  a  system  of  conduct  which  became  the 
ideal  of  the  aristocratic  military  class.  Buddhism,  like 
Christianity,  had  originally  been  a  peace  loving  religion,  utterly 
hostile  to  warfare  and  military  ideals.  But,  just  as  Chris- 
tianity, when  it  had  the  northern  barbarians  to  tame,  finding 
it  impossible  to  induce  them  to  abandon  warfare  altogether, 
compromised  by  means  of  the  institution  of  chivalry,  through 
which  the  knight  came  to  feel  sacred  obligations,  so  Japanese 
warriors  became  tamed  and  refined  by  Bushido,  the  ideal  of 
knightly  behaviour. 

For  the  masses  Buddhism  in  Japan  is  a  polytheism.  In  the 
temples  are  images  to  Amida  Buddha  (or  Amitabha) ; 


CHINA  AND  JAPAN  103 

Kwannon,  the  goddess  of  Mercy;  Binzuru,  the  divine  healer; 
Emma-sama,  the  king  of  hell;  Jizo,  protector  of  children;  and 
the  seven  gods  of  good  fortune.  "The  gorgeous  vestments  of 
the  priests,  the  solemn  intonation  of  the  service,  the  clouds  of 
incense  in  the  dimly  lighted  sanctuary,  have  reminded  many 
observers  of  the  services  in  a  Christian  cathedral."  "In  all 
Japanese  homes,  except  those  of  adherents  of  the  most 
reactionary  Shinto  sects,  there  is  a  Buddha  shelf,  on  which 
stand  little  shrines,  often  richly  ornamented  in  lacquer,  of  Bud- 
dhist gods ;  the  tablets  bearing  the  posthumous  names  of  the 
deceased  members  of  the  family  stand  on  the  same  shelf ;  offer- 
ings of  food  and  incense  are  made  before  them,"  9. 

One  peculiarity  of  the  religious  situation  in  China,  Korea 
and  Japan  is  that  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  a  layman  from 
adhering  more  or  less  to  several  religions.  He  may  go,  as 
he  pleases,  to  make  offerings  and  seek  divine  assistance  from 
Buddhist,  Taoist,  Confucian  and  Shinto  sources.  He  may 
seek  the  conservation  of  his  values  through  whatever  combina- 
tion of  agencies  he  prefers. 

Among  the  various  Buddhist  countries  the  impact  of  West- 
ern civilization  ard  the  competition  of  Christian  missions  «have 
done  most  to  arouse  the  Buddhism  of  Japan  to  activity,  especi- 
ally in  the  Shin  sect.  Priests  have  travelled  to  Europe  and 
America  and  got  Western  ideas.  Buddhist  services  are  now 
conducted  in  the  army,  in  factories,  and  among  the  poor. 
Buddhists  are  establishing  orphan  asylums,  deaf  and  dumb 
schools,  free  hospitals,  prisoners'  aid  societies,  and  free  lodging 
houses.  Prison  preaching  in  Japan  is  mostly  done  by  Bud- 
dhists. Schools  of  all  sorts  are  being  established,  especially 
for  girls  and  women,  who  had  been  neglected.  Buddhists  are 
issuing  a  great  deal  of  printed  literature;  almost  one-half 
of  the  pamphlets  of  various  sorts  published  in  the  Japanese 
empire  are  Buddhist  in  tone.  Young  Japanese  students  return- 
ing from  the  Occident  are  showing  the  value  of  the  historical 
study  of  Buddhism.  Buddhists  are  imitating  Christian 
methods.  There  is  a  "Buddhist  Endeavor  Society"  and  a 
"Young  Men's  Buddhist  Association."  Some  well  known  Chris- 
tian hymns  are  found  readily  adaptable  to  Buddhist  worship : — 
"O  for  a  thousand  tongues  to  sing,  My  holy  Buddha's  name." 
Foreign  missionary  effort  has  been  engaged  in,  and  Buddhist 
missionaries  have  been  sent  to  China,  Korea,  Siberia,  Thibet, 
the  Malay  Peninsula,  Hawaii,  and  the  United  States. 


104  BUDDHISM 

Says  Professor  Takakusu:  "The  question  whether  Bud- 
dhism, in  a  new  form,  will  arise  and  be  welcomed  by  an  ever  ad- 
vancing people  whose  souls  still  call  for  the  truth,  is  yet 
unsolved.  But  one  thing  is  certain :  Whilst  the  Buddhism  of  the 
continent  [of  Asia]  is  dead,  the  Buddhism  of  Japan  still  lives, 
though  somewhat  weakened,  and  if  this  ancient  religion  is  to 
come  forth  into  the  arena  of  the  twentieth  century  with  fresh 
vigor  and  activity,  and  preach  new  glad-tidings  to  the  world, 
it  will  not  be  the  Buddhism  of  India,  but  that  of  Japan,  that 
will  bring  this  about,"  10. 

Because  Buddhism  to-day  everywhere  in  the  world  appears 
to  be  in  a  state  of  decline,  it  does  not  follow  necessarily  that 
it  is  incapable  of  resuscitation.  There  have  been  periods  in  the 
history  of  Christianity — at  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth 
century  for  instance — when  nowhere  in  the  entire  earth  did  any 
considerable  body  of  Christians  show  great  spirituality  or  in- 
ward force.  In  such  periods  a  contemporary  might  have  judged 
Christianity  to  be  a  hopelessly  decadent  religion.  It  is  the 
belief  of  Buddhists  that  from  time  to  time,  when  the  faith  has 
begun  to  wane,  a  new  Buddha  appears  to  restore  it.  The 
name  of  the  next  Buddha  to  appear  will  be  Maitreya  Buddha. 
He  surely  ought  not  to  delay  his  coming ! 

IX — Buddhism  and  Christianity 

Mahayana  Buddhism  has  evidently  sought  to  conserve  a 
wider  range  of  human  values  than  primitive  Buddhism;  and, 
like  most  other  religions,  it  has  sought  to  do  this  through 
the  agency  of  'personal,  loving  gods.  The  values  of  active 
sympathy  and  service  of  fellow  beings  are  more  recognized. 
Intimate  relations  with  personal  gods  are  made  possible.  In 
these  modifications  the  single  minded  ethical  sincerity  and 
straightforwardness  of  the  early  faith  have  been  obscured, 
magical  and  animistic  corruptions  have  crept  in,  and  exploita- 
tion of  the  populace  by  a  greedy  clergy  has  taken  place,  espe- 
cially in  Thibet.  In  comparison  with  the  primitive  faith,  Maha- 
yana Buddhism  seems  to  have  gained  as  much  as  it  has  lost  only 
in  the  case  of  the  Shin  sect  in  China  and  Japan.  The  beliefs 
and  practices  of  this  sect  are  similar  in  many  respects  to 
Christianity,  especially  of  the  Protestant  type.  The  history  of 
Mahayana  Buddhism  is  instructive  to  the  western  student  in 
indicating  how  similar  conditions  have  to  some  extent  produced 


BUDDHISM  AND  CHRISTIANITY  105 

parallel  results  in  the  evolution  of  Buddhism  and  Christianity, 
under  circumstances  where  neither  faith  could  have  been  mea- 
surably influenced  by  the  other  in  its  development.  However, 
for  its  philosophical  interest  and  value,  the  beginner,  at  least, 
has  more  to  learn  from  the  forms  of  Buddhism  that  have 
adhered  most  closely  to  Gautama  Siddartha. 

In  all  that  concerns  the  Agency  and  means  by  which  values 
are  sought  to  be  conserved,  the  most  suggestive  points  of  con- 
trast to  Christianity  are  furnished  by  primitive  Buddhism, — 
with  its  law  of  Karma,  its  world  view  that  at  the  same  time 
is  in  a  sense  atheistic  and  yet  moral  and  teleological ;  with  its 
emphasis  on  self-sufficiency  in  attaining1  salvation,  neverthe- 
less accompanied  by  attacks  on  selfishness  and  individuality; 
with  its  complete  and  generous  tolerance  of  other  religions  with- 
out allowing  itself  to  be  corrupted  by  them ;  with  the  totally  dif- 
ferent significance  it  attached  to  its  historic  Founder.  These 
points  of  contrast  are  in  the  highest  degree  suggestive  and 
instructive. 

In  respect  to  the  values  recognized,  the  ordinary  virtues  of 
daily  civilized  life  are  inculcated  in  the  first  five  command- 
ments, much  as  they  are  in  Christianity.  Siddartha  and  Jesus 
both  insist  on  an  ethical  change  of  heart  or  regeneration  upon 
the  part  of  the  convert.  Both  insist  upon  the  purity  of  inward 
motives;  as  is  instanced  by  the  Buddhist  portrayal  of  the 
true  Brahmin  and  the  Christian  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  The 
stand  taken  over  two  thousand  years  ago  by  Siddartha  against 
the  use  of  alcoholic  intoxicants  has  only  been  reached  by 
portions  of  the  Christian  church  within  very  recent  times.  Both 
religions*  enjoin  gentleness,  love  and  forgiveness.  The  more 
positive  value  of  active  social  service  is  less  clearly  recognized 
by  primitive  Buddhism.  Its  view  of  Nirvana  is  quite  different 
from  traditional  Christian  conceptions  of  the  future  life. 
Superior  though  the  Buddhist  organization  was  to  any  that 
existed  at  the  time  of  its  origin,  it  is  decidedly  inferior  in  its 
coherence  and  effectiveness  to  the  Christian  church.  The  Bud- 
dhist Brotherhood  is  only  an  order  of  monks  after  all,  without 
a  sufficiently  organic  relation  to  the  laymen.  As  a  bond  uniting 
all  the  adherents  of  the  faith  into  a  common  fellowship  it  cannot 
be  compared  to  the  churches  to  whom  Paul  wrote  his  epistles. 

Are  there  any  respects  in  which  Buddhism  may  be  claimed  to 
be  superior  to  Christianity?  Admirers  of  Buddhism  claim 
its  superiority  upon  several  points.  (1)  They  argue  that  the 


106  BUDDHISM 

place  of  the  Founder  of  Buddhism  rests  solely  on  the  intrinsic 
worth  of  his  message  verified  in  the  reason  and  experience  of 
his  followers.  It  does  not  rest  upon  pretentiously  supernatural 
claims  based  upon  miracles  and  the  fulfilment  of  prohecies, — 
claims  that  in  the  case  of  Christianity  have  been  exploded  by 
the  advance  of  natural  and  historical  science.  In  reply  to 
this,  the  liberal  Christian  might  say  that  for  him,  at  least,  the 
value  of  Jesus  does  not  rest  upon  such  claims,  but  upon 
Christian  experience.  Liberal  Christianity,  like  liberal  Bud- 
dhism, has  been  purged  of  such  elements.  (2)  The  advocates 
of  Buddhism  claim  that  throughout  its  history  it  has  nearly 
always  been  tolerant  and  kind  in  its  treatment-  of  other  faiths, 
while  the  opposite  has  been  true  of  Christianity.  Until  very 
recent  times,  Christians  constantly  persecuted  Jews,  Moslems, 
and  even  Christians  of  other  sects  than  their  own.  In  reply, 
the  Christian  will  have  to  admit  this  shameful  blot  upon  the 
history  of  Christianity.  But  he  can  urge  that  the  past  few 
centuries  prove  that  Western  Christianity,  at  least,  in  both 
Catholic  and  Protestant  forms,  has  at  last  learned  the  lesson 
of  tolerance,  and  that  the  western  Christian  of  today  is  not 
inferior  in  this  respect  to  the  Buddhist  of  today.  (3)  A  similar 
reply  can  be  made,  at  least  by  most  American  Christians,  to 
the  claim  that  Buddhism  has  taken  a  more  consistent  stand 
against  the  evils  of  alcoholic  intemperance.  (4)  The  advocate 
of  Southern  Buddhism  urges  that  the  Buddhist  who  has  kept 
true  to  the  primitive  faith  has  been  taught  to  be  self-reliant 
and  to  seek  honestly  to  work  out  his  own  salvation,  instead  of 
fancying  that  he  can  shirk  responsibility  for  his  own  wrong 
doing  through  the  merits  of  some  one  else  (Christ,  or,  in  the 
case  of  Catholicism,  Christ  and  the  saints).  The  Christian 
might  reply,  that  this  insistence  on  self-reliance  has  not  on  the 
whole  kept  the  ethical  note  consistently  uppermost  in  the 
case  of  even  Southern  Buddhism,  in  which  the  building  of 
praying  platforms  has  sometimes  been  regarded  as  a  substi- 
tute for  genuine  goodness  of  character.  Furthermore,  the 
inspiration  that  Christians  have  gained  from  believing  that  the 
love  of  Christ  can  transform  human  lives  has  been  abundantly 
warranted  by  the  facts,  and  is  a  valuable  feature  of  the  Chris- 
tian faith.  Mahayana  Buddhism  in  some  of  its  forms  has 
pathetically  endeavored  to  gain  something  imperfectly  approxi- 
mating the  Christian  atonement. 

So  far  as  the  author  is  able  to  judge,  there  are  no  points 


107 

in  which  the  most  enlightened  Buddhism  of  today  can  claim 
to  be  superior  to  the  most  enlightened  Christianity  of  today. 
On  the  other  hand,  in  the  conception  of  the  atonement,  in  its 
greater  emphasis  on  social  service,  and  in  its  longer  experience 
with  the  moral  problems  of  western  civilization,  present-day 
Christianity  has  gained  many  points  of  superiority  to  present- 
day  Buddhism,  and  is  far  more  competent  to  assist  in  securing 
for  the  twentieth  century  the  conservation  of  its  socially 
recognized  values.  Either  Buddhists  of  Asiatic  countries  must 
learn  these  lessons  from  Christianity,  if  they  can,  or  else  expect 
that  their  religion,  even  in  these  lands,  must  ultimately  be  sup- 
planted by  Christianity.  And  there  is  no  reason  on  earth  why 
any  occidental  Christian  should  become  a  Buddhist,  although 
everyone  should  respect  Buddhism,  present  and  past,  for  its 
many  points  of  excellence. 

REFERENCES 

Subhadra  Bhikshu — A  Buddhist  Catechism. 

E.  W.  Hopkins,  The  History  of  Religion,  Chapters  XII,  XVI. 

E.  W.  Hopkins,  The  Religions  of  India,  Chapter  XIII. 

G.  F.  Moore— History  of  "Religions,  Vol.  1,  Chapters  V,  VII,  XII. 

George  A.  Barton,  The  Religions  of  the  World,  pages  158-175;  217-222; 
23  -237. 

L.  T.  Hobhouse — Morals  in  Evolution,  Part  II,  Chapter  II. 

J.  B.  Pratt, — The  Psychology  of  Religious  Belief,  Chapter  IV. 

J.  B.  Pratt,— India  and  Its  'Faiths,  Chapters  XVI-XIX. 

T.  W.  Rhys  Davids,  Indian  Buddhism,  Hibbert  Lectures,  1891. 
Buddhist  Texts,  translated  in  Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  vols.  X,  XIII, 
XVII,   XX,  XXI,  XXXV,    XXXVI,  XLIX,    and    especially   *   XI    (con- 
taining the  Book  of  the  Great  Decease,  and  the  sermon  at  Benares,  both 
translated  by  Rhys  Davids). 

*  I.  O.  Nitobe, — Bushido. 

*  Count  Okuma,   (editor) — Fifty  Years  of  New  Japan. 
D.  T.  Suzuki, — Outlines  of  Mahayana  Buddhism. 

A.  K.  Reischauer, — Studies  in  Japanese  Buddhism. 
Paul  Dahlke,  Buddhist  Essays. 
Paul  Dahlke,  Buddhism  and  Science. 

*  Edwin  Arnold, — The  Light  of  Asia. 
L.  de  la  Vallee  Poussin, — Bouddhisme. 

Articles  in  Hasting's  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics. 
CHARLES  ELIOT,  Hinduism  and  Buddhism, 


CHAPTER  IX 

GREECE  AND  ROME 

I — Introduction 

WHILE  the  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans  were  peoples  of  differ- 
ent racial  genius,  their  religious  histories,  notwithstanding 
noteworthy  contrasts,  present  many  points  in  agreement.  These 
common  points  are  those  of  chief  concern  to  us  in  the  study 
of  religion  as  an  endeavor  to  secure  the  conservation  of  socially 
recognized  values. 

Among  both  Greeks  and  Romans,  religious  endeavor,  so  far 
as  it  ever  became  really  effectual,  was  a  function  of  the  family 
and  the  city  state.  It  conserved  the  values  of  these  institutions, 
and  was  chiefly  of  aid  to  the  individual  in  relation  to  them. 
Thus  subordinated,  religion  did  not  develop  as  an  independent 
institution.  Religious  worship  never  became  centralized.  Each 
local  shrine  had  its  own  ritual,  handed  down  by  tradition  from 
one  priest  to  his  successor.  The  priesthood  never  became  a 
special  professional  class  like  the  Brahmins.  No  great  order 
like  the  Buddhist  brotherhood  arose.  There  were  no  sacred 
books  like  the  Vedas,  and  no  authoritative  body  of  doctrine. 

The  Greeks  and  Romans  were  brilliantly  successful  in  their 
religious  evolution  up  to  a  certain  point,  beyond  which  they 
were  unable  to  advance.  They  succeeded  so  long  as  their 
problem  was  the  conservation  of  the  social  and  moral  values 
of  their  earlier  life,  chiefly  concerned  with  the  family  and 
the  city  state.  This  conservation  could  be  effected  through 
the  agency  of  deities  conceived  in  anthropomorphic  terms,  i.  e., 
in  the  forms  of  idealized  men  and  women.  The  Olvmpian  gods 
and  goddesses  of  the  Greeks  are  the  most  splendid  anthropo- 
morphic deities  that  the  mind  of  man  has  ever  produced.  But 
the  problems  of  associated  life  presently  became  complex  and 
irreducible  to  the  simpler  conceptions  of  life  in  the  earlier 
family  and  city  state;  individuals  came  to  feel  spiritual 
needs  too  profound  to  be  conserved  through  anthropomorphic 
gods  and  goddesses,  no  matter  how  lovely  in  aesthetic  form. 
The  old  pagan  religions  of  Greece  and  Rome  were  unable  to 

108 


FAMILY  RELIGION  109 

meet  these  problems,  and  collapsed.  Their  failure  was  chiefly 
due  to  their  lack  of  a  satisfactory  Agency  for  the  conservation 
of  their  higher  values.  Christianity  triumphed  over  paganism 
because  it  was  able  to  provide  this  needed  Agency  of  God  who  is 
revealed  in  Christ,  and  who  is  made  available  through  the  medium 
of  an  independent  institution,  the  Church.  The  Greek  under- 
standing of  moral  values,  on  the  other  hand,  was  profound  and 
has  contributed  much  on  this  side  to  modern  culture.  The 
Greeks  knew  how  to  analyze  and  to  describe  moral  principles ; 
they  failed  to  find  a  satisfactory  religious  Agency  through 
which  to  conserve  them. 

II — Family  Religion 

An  important  feature  of  the  life  of  the  early  Greek  home  was 
the  worship  of  the  hearth  and  the  fire  upon  it.  This  fire  was 
kept  perpetually  burning;  it  was  thought  to  be  alive.  Food 
was  offered  to  it,  and  the  fact  that  the  fire  grew  in  size  when 
consuming  the  food  indicated  that  the  latter  was  acceptable. 
The  fire  stood  for  cleanliness.  Nothing  damp  nor  dirty  might 
be  put  on  it,  nothing  unclean  brought  into  its  presence.  In 
time,  the  values  conserved  by  the  sacred  fire  came  to  include 
the  moral  purity  of  the  home.  The  conservation  of  moral 
purity  required  a  personal  deity,  and  thus  arose  the  idea  of  a 
goddess  of  the  hearth,  Hestia,  a  beautiful  virgin,  who  stood  for 
moral  purity,  and  protected  domestic  relations.  Later,  as 
the  tendency  grew  to  group  all  the  chief  deities  in  one  family, 
Hestia  became  the  daughter  of  Zeus  the  supreme  God.  He 
too,  became  a  protector  of  the  hearth,  as  well  as  his  wife  Hera. 
The  marriage  of  the  highest  god  and  goddess  became  symbolical 
of  all  marriage,  which  was  regarded  as  sacred  and  holy,  and 
probably  as  sacramental,  1.  The  altar  of  Hestia  stood  in 
the  main  room  of  the  house.  Just  outside  the  door,  as  one 
entered  the  house,  stood  the  altar  of  Apollo,  the  Guardian 
(against  plague  and  other  disasters).  The  gods  of  property, 
good  fortune,  and  trade,  as  well  as  the  patron  god  of  the  city 
state,  were  likely  to  be  worshipped  in  the  home,  2.  There  were 
impressive  ceremonies  connected  with  the  important  events  of 
family  life  such  as  marriage,  birth  and  death. 

Each  family  had  its  own  tomb,  where  ancestors  were  buried, 
and  offerings  regularly  paid  and  prayers  addressed.  This 
tomb,  Euripides  says,  was  generally  near  the  house  "in  order 
that  the  sons,  in  entering  and  leaving  their  dwelling,  might 


110  GREECE  AND  ROME 

always  meet  their  fathers,  and  might  always  address  them 
an  invocation,"  3.  The  ghosts  of  the  departed  were  believed  to 
be  still  living  and  lovins:  members  of  the  family,  and  it  was 
often  thought  to  be  a  duty  to  marry  and  to  leave  posterity  to 
continue  the  ancestral  worship.  The  Erinyes  were  spirits  who 
inflicted  merciless  vengeance  on  those  guilty  of  shedding  the 
blood  of  their  kindred. 

Among  the  Romans,  Vesta  was  the  central  figure  in  the  wor- 
ship of  the  home.  The  family  was  also  protected  by  various 
spirits, — the  penates  (originally  guardians  of  the  store  room), 
the  lares  (perhaps  originally  spirits  protecting  the  farm)  and 
the  Genius,  or  guardian  soul,  of  the  head  of  the  house.  Ances- 
tral worship  was  also  important,  4. 

Greek  and  Roman  family  religion  was  highly  successful  in 
binding  the  members  of  the  family  together  in  fraternal  and 
filial  devotion  to  one  another,  and  to  the  family  traditions.  It 
strengthened  and  preserved  the  ties  of  the  home.  Professor 
Farnell  says  of  the  Greeks :  "Probably  no  people  has  ever  felt 
with  greater  fervour  the  sacredness  of  the  bond  between  brother 
and  sister,  parent  and  child,  the  reverence  due  to  the  mother 
no  less  than  to  the  father,"  5.  The  vitality  of  the  religion  of  the 
family,  he  says,  persisted  after  other  forms  of  religion  had 
passed  into  decay,  clear  down  to  the  final  extinction  of  pag- 
anism. 

Ill — The  Religion  of  the  Greek  City  State 

Early  Greek  settlements  ultimately  grew  into  cities,  which 
became  the  religious  as  well  as  the  commercial  centers  of  the 
adjacent  country  and  of  dependent  colonies.  Greece  in  the 
time  of  its  greatest  glory  consisted  of  a  number  of  such  city 
states.  The  individual  felt  deep  loyalty  and  devotion  to  his 
city.  He  was  chiefly  aware  of  his  moral  and  religious  obliga- 
tions and  privileges  in  relation  to  it.  The  modern  man  is 
likely  to  feel  a  certain  pride  in  the  city  of  his  birth,  patriotic 
devotion  to  his  native  land,  and  reverent  loyalty  to  the  God 
and  church  of  his  fathers.  To  the  Greek  such  pride,  devotion 
and  loyalty  were  all  directed  toward  one  object, — the  city 
state.  The  city  was  the  political,  intellectual  and  commercial 
center  of  his  fatherland,  and  it  maintained  the  worship  of  the 
temples  for  the  common  good. 

In  other  religions,  adolescents  experience  some  kind  of 
spiritual  awakening  and  are  initiated  or  confirmed  into  the 


THE  CITY  STATE  111 

faith  of  their  fathers.  Greek  and  Roman  youth  at  this  age 
were  solemnly  received  into  citizenship  with  religious  rites,  6. 
Religious  awakening  with  them  was  a  conscious  consecration 
to  the  service  of  the  state.  Loyalty  to  the  city  naturally  grew 
out  of  loyalty  to  one's  family,  because  the  city  "with  all  its 
various  and  often  heterogeneous  elements,  was  regarded  as  one 
family,"  7. 

Much  of  the  civic  ritual  was  derived  from  the  household.  In 
the  ancient  Attic  feast  of  the  Dipolia,  the  festival  of  Zeus  the 
city-god,  the  citizens  partook  of  the  sacred  flesh  of  the  sacri- 
ficed ox,  typical  of  a  sacramental  family  meal.  As  there  was 
a  sacred  fire  in  each  home  which  conserved  the  life  and  wel- 
fare of  the  family,  so  a  perpetual  fire  was  maintained  in  the 
town  hall  before  the  statue  of  Hestia,  and  on  this  the  continuous 
life  of  the  state  depended.  When  a  threatened  state  consulted 
the  oracle  at  Delphi,  the  god  was  likely  to  enjoin  faithful 
and  zealous  maintenance  of  the  traditional  rites  in  honor  of 
the  ancestral  ghosts. 

The  Greek  city  state  employed  religion  in  the  endeavor  to 
conserve  all  of  its  values.  Law  courts  and  market  places, 
council  chamber  and  town  hall  were  consecrated,  and  under  the 
protection  of  deities.  "Important  acts  of  State  were  accom- 
panied by  sacrifice;  the  religious  oath  was  administered  to 
magistrates,  jurymen  and  other  officials;  the  admission  of 
youth  into  the  ranks  of  the  citizens  was  a  religious  ceremony,"  8. 
The  incorporation  of  a  small  community  into  a  larger  state 
required  religious  rites.  Oracles  were  always  consulted  in 
crises,  and  whenever  an  important  political  decision  had  to  be 
made.  There  was  always  an  imposing  temple  to  the  deity 
(usually  Zeus,  but  in  the  case  of  Athens,  Pallas  Athene)  who 
had  the  city  state  under  special  protection,  and  splendid  festi- 
vals, processions  and  feasts  were  celebrated  in  his  honor.  The 
public  worship  of  all  the  other  deities  who  conserved  values  of 
socially  recognized  importance  was  faithfully  maintained. 
Athens  and  other  Greek  cities  were  thronged  with  altars, 
shrines  and  temples. 

The  city  state  also  made  provision  for  the  worship  of 
lesser  supernatural  beings.  Heroes  were  men,  who  according  to 
tradition  had  founded  cities  or  families,  or  done  great  deeds. 
Their  bones  were  carefully  preserved,  and  were  revered  at  their 
tombs.  A  hero  was  usually  worshipped  exclusively  in  some 
particular  locality  of  which  he  was  thought  to  be  a  patron. 


GREECE  AND  ROME 

The  Christian  saints  whoi*ultimately  replaced  these  local  heroes, 
to  this  day  conserve  much  the  same  values  for  the  populations 
of  village  communities  in  Mediterranean  lands.  There  was 
a  large  variety  of  malignant  spirits,  Keres,  who  needed  to  be 
placated.  In  Athens,  for  instance,  during  a  three  days  festi- 
val in  the  spring,  food  and  wine  were  offered  to  disturbing 
ghosts  in  order  to  induce  them  to  depart  peaceably  from  the 
city.  Similarly  there  were  harvest  festivals — whose  purpose 
was  to  attract  troublesome  spirits  out  into  the  country  by 
means  of  offerings,  so  that  it  would  be  safe  to  bring  in  the 
new  grain.  Human  beings,  probably  criminals  condemned  to 
death,  seem  at  least  in  early  times  to  have  been  sacrificed  for 
this  purpose.  Disease,  disaster,  old  age  and  death  were  all 
attributed  to  the  actions  of  Keres.  The  fates,  gorgons,  sirens, 
sphinx,  harpies  and  furies  were  all  species  of  Keres,  9. 

IV — The  Olympians 

The  Olympian  deities,  whose  worship  the  city  states  made 
splendid  and  beautiful,  were  an  inheritance  from  earlier  times. 
They  were  the  brilliant  achievement  of  the  age  that  produced 
the  Homeric  poems,  the  ninth  and  eighth  centuries  B.  C.  At 
a  still  earlier  period  the  religion  of  the  savage  ancestors  of 
the  Greeks  had  been  a  low  form  of  animism,  with  brutal  and 
bloody  rites.  From  such  crude  beginnings  there  developed, 
through  the  agency  of  the  Homeric  poems,  the  Olympian  gods 
and  goddesses, — the  most  sublime  beings  that  the  mind  of 
man  has  ever  been  able  to  produce,  so  long  as  it  has  continued 
to  think  of  the  divine  in  anthropomorphic  imagery. 

The  lays  from  which  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  arose  were 
composed  to  be  recited  at  the  courts  of  the  princes  of  Ionia, 
under  conditions  unusually  favorable  for  the  free  expression 
of  poetic  imagination.  The  Greeks,  then  comparatively  new 
comers  in  Ionia,  were  there  removed  from  the  more  fixed  tradi- 
tions of  the  mother  country.  So  the  bard  could  modify  and 
improve  the  old  tales  as  he  sang  them.  He  could  make  the 
stories  more  artistic,  enlarging  upon  what  he  could  make  most 
pleasing,  and  leaving  out  everything  that  would  sound  crude 
and  gross  to  his  aristocratic  hearers.  As  his  purpose  was  to 
entertain,  rather  than  to  edify,  he  gave  Greek  mythology  an 
aesthetic  rather  than  an  ethical  form, — a  characteristic  which 
it  always  retained. 

The  epic  poems  vividly  portray  the  gods  and  goddesses  as 


OLYMPIANS  113 

men  and  women  on  a  higher  scale.  They  eat,  drink  and  sleep 
like  men.  The  world  is  governed  by  a  royal  family  of  which 
Zeus  is  head,  with  a  palace  on  Mount  Olympus.  His  court 
is  much  like  the  courts  of  the  princes  to  whom  the  Homeric 
tales  were  recited.  In  it  councils  and  banquets  were  held,  and 
intrigues  of  war  and  love  were  carried  on.  Each  deity  was 
given  a  clear  cut  and  striking  personality.  Zeus,  for  instance, 
is  "father  of  gods"  and  "most  exalted  of  rulers."  He  con- 
trols the  elements,  and  at  his  nod  even  Mount  Olympus  trembles. 
He  is  very  wise  and  powerful,  but  by  no  means  omniscient  nor 
omnipotent.  The  others  sometimes  outwit  him.  Hera,  his 
wife,  is  somewhat  of  a  scold,  and  Zeus,  who  is  by  no  means  a 
faithful  husband,  is  rather  afraid  of  her.  He  is  not  above 
craft  and  deceit  when  necessary,  though  he  usually  is  square 
and  honorable  in  his  dealings.  Such  a  god  was  greater  and 
wiser  than  the  Ionian  princes ;  they  liked  and  revered  him.  His 
morals  were  as  good  or  better  than  theirs,  and  religion  had 
not  yet  arrived  at  a  strictly  ethical  stage.  There  was  close- 
ness of  contact  and  sympathy  between  men  and  their  gods, 
and  the  latter  conserved  the  values  of  that  age  by  idealizing 
them. 

As  the  Homeric  poems  constituted  an  important  feature  of 
education  in  later  times,  and  every  school  boy  was  made  familiar 
with  them,  their  portraiture  of  the  gods  became  firmly  fixed  in 
the  Greek  imagination.  This  was  strengthened  by  art.  For 
instance,  when  the  sculptor  Phidias  was  asked  what  type 
he  selected  for  his  masterpiece,  the  statue  of  Zeus  at  Olympia, 
he  is  said  to  have  replied  with  Homer's  lines :  "The  son  of 
Cronos  spoke  and  nodded  under  his  dark  brows  ;  and  the  ambro- 
sial locks  of  the  king  fell  down  from  his  immortal  head,  and 
he  shook  great  Olympus."  Five  centuries  later  the  orator  Dio 
Chrysostom  said  of  this  statue:  "Whoever  among  mankind  is 
wholly  weary  in  soul,  whoever  has  experienced  many  misfor- 
tunes and  sorrows  in  life,  and  may  not  find  sweet  sleep,  he, 
methinks,  if  he  stood  before  this  statue,  would  forget  all  the 
calamities  and  griefs  that  come  in  the  life  of  man."  10.  The 
statues  and  temples  of  the  gods,  made  as  fine  and  beautiful  as 
the  greatest  artists  were  able  to  render  them,  did  much  to 
raise  the  popular  conception  to  the  plane  of  dignity,  beauty, 
moderation  and  symmetry  on  which  Greek  religious  ideals  stood. 

Professor  Gilbert  Murray  regards  the  creation  of  the  Olym- 
pian gods  as  a  great  religious  reformation.  In  place  of  the 


114  GREECE  AND  ROME 

world  conceived  by  earlier  periods,  "as  merely  subject  to  in- 
cursions of  mana  snakes  and  bulls  and  thunder-stones  and  mon- 
sters," it  gave  the  Greek  the  conception  of  the  world  "as  gov- 
erned by  an  organized  body  of  personal  and  reasoning  rulers, 
wise  and  bountiful  fathers,  like  man  in  mind  and  shape,  only 
unspeakably  higher,"  11.  It  swept  away,  or  at  least  covered 
with  a  decent  veil,  the  gross  sexual  rites  of  savagery,  and  also 
the  superstitions  connected  with  early  worship  of  the  dead.  It 
furnished  the  religious  basis  for  the  social  order  based  on  the 
city  state.  It  worked  for  concord  and  good  will  among  the 
different  Greek  states,  by  giving  them  a  common  religious  lit- 
erature and  art. 

Yet  the  anthropomorphic  conception  of  the  gods  proved  to 
be  incapable  of  development  beyond  a  certain  point.  Man  is 
limited  in  his  physical  and  moral  possibilities.  When  the 
Greeks  clothed  their  gods  with  human  flesh,  and  celebrated  them 
in  art  and  literature  as  magnified  human  beings,  they  put  a 
limit  to  their  further  religious  development. 

V — Attempted  Reforms  by  Poets  and  Philosophers. 

A  time  came  when  Greek  civilization  progressed  far  beyond 
its  level  in  Homeric  times.  Morality  advanced  with  it.  Adult- 
ery, theft,  perjury  and  deceit  came  to  be  clearly  recognized 
as  sinful  for  men.  It  became  difficult  for  the  Greeks  to  con- 
tinue to  revere  the  gods,  and  yet  to  regard  them  as  occasion- 
ally guilty  of  conduct  that  would  have  been  blameworthy  in 
men.  The  old  notions  of  the  gods  needed  to  be  revised.  Un- 
worthy tales  must  be  rejected.  The  gods  must  become  further 
idealized  according  to  the  insight  of  a  more  discerning  age. 

The  great  poets  of  the  sixth  and  fifth  centuries  attempted  this 
task.  Their  odes  and  dramas  were  presented  at  the  great 
religious  festivals,  and  must  have  had  considerable  publicity 
and  influence.  Pindar  described  the  gods  as  all  wise  and  power- 
ful, just  and'truthful.  Men  must  remember  that  they  are  mortal, 
and  avoid  insolence  and  pride.  He  believed  in  rewards  and 
punishments  both  on  earth  and  in  a  future  life.  Aeschylus 
emphasized  the  divine  punishment  that  follows  sin  from  one 
generation  to  another.  Sophocles  laid  stress  upon  purity  of 
heart  and  piety ;  he  believed  that  the  universe  is  moral  through- 
out. Euripides  was  more  destructive  in  his  criticism  of  gods, 
myths,  and  current  religious  practises ;  he  exposed  their  moral 
inadequacies  and  intellectual  absurdities.  This  he  doubtless 


ATTEMPTED  REFORMS  115 

did  in  the  endeavor  to  give  men  higher  ideals.  He  constantly 
raised  fundamental  problems  which  set  men  thinking.  But  the 
poets  were  unable  to  make  a  thorough  reconstruction  of  reli- 
gion. The  lineaments  of  the  gods  and  the  tales  regarding  them 
did  not  admit  of  modification  beyond  limits,  and  the  poets  were 
not  clear  in  their  own  minds  regarding  the  details  of  the  reform- 
ation that  they  sought.  Moreover,  they  were  primarily  artists 
and  not  religious  specialists. 

The  philosophers,  too,  sought  to  effect  changes  in  religion. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century  B.  C.,  Xenophanes  had 
satirized  anthropomorphic  conceptions.  Ethiopians,  he  pointed 
out,  imagine  that  the  gods  have  flat  noses  and  swarthy  skins, 
while  Thracians  give  them  blue  eyes  and  red  hair ;  and  if  cattle 
and  horses  had  hands,  they  too,  would  make  gods  like  them- 
selves. Men  even  ascribe  moral  weaknesses  to  the  gods, — 
theft,  adultery  and  deceit.  All  this  is  absurd  and  wicked. 
There  is  but  one  god  in  the  universe,  and  he  is  not  like  a  man. 
It  is  not  certain  whether  Xenophanes  thought  the  one  god  to 
be  identical  with  the  universe  (pantheism)  or  whether  he 
believed  this  god  to  be  an  immanent  being  in  it,  who  directs  and 
controls  it  by  his  thought.  His  contemporary,  Heraclitus, 
believed  that  the  universe  has  eternally  existed,  and  that  it 
passes  through  cycles  of  evolution  subject  to  universal  law  or 
reason  (Logos).  It  is  uncertain  whether  for  him  the  Logos  is  a 
god  that  may  be  worshipped,  or  simply  impersonal  law  in  the 
sense  of  modern  physical  science.  He  thoroughly  disapproved 
of  the  anthropomorphic  gods  of  popular  religion.  Anaxagoras 
(f  428  B.  C.)  worked  out  a  thoroughly  mechanical  conception 
of  the  universe,  except  that  he  found  it  necessary  to  posit  an 
initial  god  or  mind  (Nous)  to  set  the  physical  elements  into 
motion.  Leucippus  and  Democritus  (t370  B.  C.)  developed  the 
theory  of  atoms  and  a  complete  philosophical  materialism.  This 
philosophical  movement  was  more  effective  in  helping  to  under- 
mine belief  in  traditional  religion  than  in  providing  a  substitute 
for  it. 

By  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  in  Athens  at  least,  another 
movement  in  philosophy  began.  In  place  of  speculation  about 
the  nature  of  the  physical  universe,  attention  became  directed 
to  political  and  social  inquiry,  and  in  general,  to  the  study  of 
man.  The  Sophists  were  disposed  to  reject  traditional  morals, 
which  previously  had  been  protected  by  religion  as  of  divine 
and  sacred  ancestral  origin  and  authority.  Laws  and  moral- 


116  GREECE  AND  ROME 

ity,  according  to  them,  are  mere  matters  of  human  convention, 
which  may  be  disregarded  whenever  it  is  of  advantage  to  do  so. 
Socrates  (f399  B  C.)  began  a  more  constructive  movement. 
He  agreed  with  the  Sophists  that  morality  is  subject  to  revi- 
sion and  criticism,  but  he  maintained  that  its  fundamental  prin- 
ciples stand  when  thus  criticized.  Virtue  is  knowledge ;  honest 
inquiry  both  teaches  what  should  be  done  and  arouses  the  desire 
to  do  it.  Goodness  is  the  health  of  the  soul ;  it  is  better  to 
suffer  injustice  at  the  hands  of  others  than  to  be  guilty  of 
it  oneself,  and  it  is  wrong  to  return  evil  for  evil.  He  denounced 
all  views  or  tales  that  represented  the  gods  other  than  wise  and 
good.  Probably  he  believed  that  there  is  but  one  divine  being 
or  principle  in  the  universe,  who  upholds  righteousness,  but  he 
conformed  to  customary  observances  and  prayed  to  the  gods 
like  other  men.  He  felt  it  a  duty  to  accept  the  decisions  of 
the  government  of  his  city  as  final,  and  cheerfully  submitted 
to  an  unjust  sentence  of  death  on  false  charges  when  he  might 
have  escaped  by  flight. 

This  conduct  of  Socrates  and  the  general  tenor  of  his  teach- 
ings indicate  that  the  conception  of  the  city  state  was  basic 
in  his  moral  and  religious  thought.  The  same  was  true  of 
his  greatest  pupil,  Plato  (f347  B.  C.)  ;  and,  in  turn,  of  Plato's 
pupil,  Aristotle  (t322  B.  C.).  For  Plato,  the  virtue  of  the  indi- 
vidual man  is  modeled  on  the  plan  of  justice  in  the  city  state; 
for  the  state  is  the  individual  writ  large.  In  the  state  there 
must  be  wise  rulers,  courageous  defenders,  and  common  citizens 
who  are  temperate  and  obedient.  When  each  class  performs  its 
functions  faithfully,  and  all  work  in  harmony,  there  is  justice. 
Likewise  in  the  individual  man.  To  be  governed  by  reason,  to 
be  spirited  in  action,  to  exercise  self  control  over  passions  and 
appetites,  and  to  combine  all  in  a  symmetrical  and  well  ordered 
life,  is  to  possess  the  four  cardinal  virtues  of  wisdom,  courage, 
temperance,  and  justice.  Aristotle's  moral  conceptions  rest  on 
similar  grounds.  Man  is  by  nature  a  political  or  social  animal. 
Man's  virtues  as  an  individual  and  as  a  citizen,  Aristotle  set 
forth  in  detail  so  effectively  that  his  work  may  be  said  to 
form  the  basis  of  systematic  ethics  for  subsequent  European 
thought  down  to  the  present  time. 

For  these  three  greatest  of  Greek  philosophers,  the  moral 
values,  which  they  understand  and  which  Plato  and  Aristotle 
set  forth  in  systematic  form,  are  conceived  in  terms  of  citizen- 
ship in  a  free  state.  They  regarded  the  worship  of  the  gods, 


ATTEMPTED  REFORMS  117 

properly  purified,  as  a  necessary  sanction  for  moral  values  in 
such  a  state.  Their  philosophical  conception  of  reality  and 
of  the  universe  led  them  personally  to  interpretations  of  the 
divine  that,  to  say  the  least,  were  much  less"  orthodox;  they 
evidently  thought  that  philosophers  might  hold  whatever  religi- 
ous opinions  intellectual  speculation  led  them  to  accept,  that 
it  was  their  duty  to  follow- an  argument  wherever  it  leads.  But 
public  worship  must  be  maintained  for  the  benefit  of  the  citizens 
of  a  state,  in  order  to  support  moral  institutions.  This  was  less 
inconsistent  from  the  ancient  point  of  view  than  it  appears 
to  us.  The  ancients  thought  that  the  essential  thing  about 
public  religious  worship  was  that  the  ceremonies  go  on,  and 
that  men  at  times  participate  in  them.  The  individual  was  free 
to  put  his  private  interpretation  on  them,  and  to  accept  or 
reject  whatever  myths  and  doctrines  he  chose.  There  were  no 
fixed  creeds  and  dogmas  in  Greek  religion,  no  infallible  Bibles, 
no  Church. 

Constructive  in  its  recognition  of  moral  values  as  was  the 
work  of  the  philosophers,  and  inspiring  as  it  was  to  their  com- 
paratively few  students,  it  failed  to  find  adequate  moral  and 
religious  sanctions  for  the  life  of  the  citizens.  The  common 
man  was  shrewd  enough  to  know  that  the  philosophers  did  not 
believe  in  morality  on  traditional  grounds.  He  was  aware  that 
they  did  not  believe  in  the  gods  of  the  city  in  an  ordinary 
sense.  That  the  philosophers  advised  him  to  believe  in  the  gods 
was-  under  these  circumstances  hardly  persuasive.  Anthropo- 
morphic religion  began  to  break  down  for  him  also;  it  could 
no  longer  conserve  his  moral  values.  Losing  faith  in  the  tradi- 
tional religion  of  the  state,  many  became  openly  skeptical  of 
religion,  and  in  some  cases  even  of  moral  obligations  as  well. 
Some  became  credulous  dupes  of  various  seemingly  new  religious 
fads  and  cults  which  were  in  reality  saturated  with  old  super- 
stitutions,  just  as  is  often  true  to-day  of  whose  who  forsake 
traditional  Christianity  and  Judaism. 

The  situation  became  still  more  serious  from  the  latter  part 
of  the*  fourth  century  on,  after  the  city  states  had  lost  their 
vital  significance  along  with  their  freedom  under  Alexander  the 
Great  and  his  successors.  The  problem  of  the  thoughtful  man 
then  became,  How  might  he  reconstruct  his  moral  and  religious 
beliefs,  his  recognition  of  values  and  of  the  agency  through 
which  he  might  conserve  them,  now  that  he  could  no  longer 
think  them  in  terms  of  citizenship  in  a  free  state? 


118  GREECE  AND  ROME 

The  later  philosophers  answered  this  question  in  different 
ways.  The  skeptics  said  for  a  man  to  be  wise,  he  should  be 
as  non-committal  as  possible,  believing  and  trusting  nothing 
and  nobody  except  himself,  an  attitude  of  destructive  individ- 
ualism. The  Epicureans  said  that  the  wise  man  should  lead, 
so  far  as  he  could,  a  life  of  refined  enjoyment,  appreciating  the 
pleasure  of  a  simple  and  temperate  life.  He  should  cultivate 
friends.  The  Epicureans  adopted  the  materialism  of  Demo- 
critus.  From  this  they  said  it  followed  that  man  need  not  fear 
the  gods.  If  such  beings  exist  at  all,  they  lead  a  joyous  life 
off  in  some  sheltered  region,  unconcerned  about  the  doings  of 
men.  They  simply  are  of  value  to  men  for  the  enjoyment  which 
their  depiction  in  art  and  literature  affords.  Epicureanism 
was  of  service  in  combating  the  recrudescence  of  debasing  and 
terrifying  superstitions  that  arose  with  the  decline  of  the  reli- 
gion of  the  city  state.  In  Rome  it  became  in  some  measure  the 
creed  of  liberally  and  democratically  minded  men.  Julius  Caesar, 
for  instance,  was  an  Epicurean,  as  was  also  the  poet  Horace. 
But  the  influence  of  Epicureanism  on  the  whole  tended  toward 
the  cultivation  of  a  life  of  refined  selfishness,  with  little  regard 
for  serious  social  obligations  and  responsibilities.  And  its  doc- 
trine that  pleasure  is  the  highest  good  was  often  misinterpreted 
to  sanction  a  life  of  sensual  indulgence  and  dissipation. 

The  most  constructive  philosophical  movement  after  the 
decline  of  the  city  state  was  that  of  the  Stoics.  They  ex- 
panded the  earlier  conceptions  of  morality  and  religion  that 
even  for  Plato  and  Aristotle  had  largely  been  restricted  by 
attachment  to  the  city  state,  so  as  to  include  the  universe. 
Instead  of  thinking  of  oneself  as  a  citizen  of  Athens  or  Sparta, 
one  should  think  of  oneself  as  a  citizen  of  the  world.  For  the 
whole  world  is  one  great  city  of  gods  and  men.  In  theory,  at 
least,  it  follows  that  all  men  are  equal  by  natural  right ;  by 
nature  there  is  no  just  distinction  in  rights  between  Greeks  and 
barbarians,  slaves  and  free,  men  and  women.  These  Stoic  con- 
ceptions of  "natural  right"  and  the  "law  of  nature"  ultimately 
passed  over  into  Roman  law  and  tradition.  They  were  revived 
in  modern  times  in  the  struggle  for  individual  and  national 
freedom  that  began  with  the  Renaissance,  and  we  owe  much 
to  the  Stoics  for  the  origin  of  conceptions  of  liberty  that  have 
become  basic  in  modern  constitutions,  laws,  and  public  opinion. 
Not  only  did  the  Stoics  do  much  to  widen  the  extension  of 
moral  rights  and  duties  so  as  to  make  them  include  all  men. 


GREEK  MYSTERIES  119 

They  also  sought  to  conserve  these  values  through  religion. 
They  spiritualized  the  Logos  doctrine  of  Heraclitus  and  taught 
that  there  is  one  God  who  pervades  all  the  universe,  and  whom 
all  men  may  regard  as  Father.  They  attacked  the  problem 
how  there  can  be  evil  in  a  world  subject  to  an  all  wise  Provid- 
ence, and  they  worked  out  most  of  the  answers  offered  by 
theists  to-day: — much  that  from  our  limited  point  of  view 
appears  evil  is  good  from  the  standpoint  of  the  whole  as 
perceived  by  God ;  physical  evils  are  necessary  for  the  discipline 
of  human  character;  moral  evil  they  explained  by  saying  that 
if  man  is  free,  he  is  bound  to  sin ;  that  without  evil  there  could 
be  no  good ;  and  so  on.  The  chief  good  for  man  is  a  life  in 
accordance  with  nature,  which  means  in  accordance  with  the 
divine  principle  of  nature,  that  is,  God.  They  felt  the  need 
of  an  ideal  historical  person  who  might  serve  as  a  model  for 
men  to  imitate,  and  made  much  of  Socrates,  and  other  virtuous 
men  for  this  purpose.  The  Stoics  did  not  condemn  the 
worship  of  the  gods  of  popular  religion,  but  sought  to  interpret 
them  allegorically ;  they  sometimes  said  that  they  were  names 
given  to  the  one  God  as  he  is  manifested  in  the  different  depart- 
ments of  nature, — Zeus  in  the  ether,  Hera  in  the  air,  Poseidon 
in  the  sea,  and  Demeter  in  the  earth.  Stoic  philosophers  went 
about  preaching  their  philosophy  as  a  religion,  and  they  were 
listened  to  respectfully  by  educated  people.  The  employment 
of  the  sermon,  tract,  and  epistle  have  been  said  to  have  been 
suggested  to  early  Christianity  by  Stoicism. 

VI — The  Greek  Mystery  Religions 

Even  in  classical  times  the  religion-  of  the  family  and  city 
state  had  not  seemed  sufficient  to  everyone.  Many  had  felt  the 
need  of  closer  personal  intimacy  with  the  divine,  as  a  reinforce- 
ment in  the  struggles  for  higher  values  in  this  life,  and  as  an 
assurance  of  a  blessed  immortality  after  death.  Attempts  to 
meet  these  needs  were  made  by  the  various  mysteries,  cults  into 
which  those  who  desired  might  be  initiated.  The  first  and 
crudest  of  these  was  the  worship  of  Dionysus  (Bacchus), — the 
Thracian  god  of  the  grape  and  of  wine, — which  became  popular 
as  early  as  the  sixth  century  B.  C.  The  worshippers  gathered 
in  secret  meetings  where  they  dramatically  presented  the 
mythical  events  in  the  life  of  the  god,  and  engaged  in  eating  and 
drinking.  The  mysteries  of  Orpheus  are  supposed  by  some 
to  have  been  the  result  of  a  reform  movement  within  the 


120  GREECE  AND  ROME 

Dionysiac  cult.  In  these  the  divine  presence  was  identified  with 
the  heightening  of  a  consciousness  afforded  by  aesthetic  pleas- 
ures, especially  music, — a  great  advance  in  spirituality  over 
alcoholic  stimulation.  The  Orphic  movement  was  spread  by 
missionaries  and  gathered  its  converts  into  societies,  which 
celebrated  initiatory  rites  and  sacraments,  and  were  guided  by 
inspired  scriptures.  It  was,  in  its  way,  a  religion  of  redemption, 
offering  a  more  spiritual  life  to  its  adherents,  through  their 
worship  of  the  god  who  would  sustain  and  support  them  by 
his  presence  within  them,  and  afford  to  them  a  share  in  his 
immortality.  The  Dionysiac  and  Orphic  societies  were  inde- 
pendent of  state  control. 

The  mysteries  of  Eleusis,  on  the  contrary,  were  a  recognized 
part  of  the  established  religion  of  the  Athenian  city  state. 
They  made  use  of  the  myth  that  Persephone,  the  daughter  of 
Demeter,  had  been  snatched  away  and  taken  down  into  Hades, 
from  whence,  as  a  result  of  her  mother's  efforts  she  was 
permitted  to  return  to  earth  with  the  awakening  life  of  the 
spring.  Those  who  were  initiated  into  this  worship,  were 
assured  a  participation  in  her  resurrection  and  immortality. 
These  mysteries,  under  state  regulation,  were  freer  from 
excesses  than  those  of  Dionysus  and  Orpheus.  For  the  same 
reason,  it  was  longer  before  they  admitted  any  but  Athenian 
citizens,  but  in  the  course  of  time,  they  became  open  to  all 
Greeks,  and  finally  to  Romans. 

The  mystery  religions,  being  more  emotional  in  character, 
had  a  wider  appeal  than  Stoic  philosophy.  On  the  other  hand, 
their  moral  and  spiritual  tone  was  much  lower.  Prior  to  their 
conquest  by  the  Romans,  therefore,  the  Greeks  must  be  said  on 
the  whole  to  have  failed  to  find  a  way  to  conserve  on  a  high 
moral  plane,  personal  values,  like  a  warm  consciousness  of 
divine  presence  and  hope  for  immortality,  through  religious 
worship. 

VII — Religion  in  the  Roman  Republic 

The  life  of  the  ancestors  of  the  Romans  was  pastoral  and 
agricultural.  When  the  little  city  state  of  Rome  began  its 
career,  it  adopted  prescribed  forms  of  worship  for  the  conser- 
vation of  its  values,  and  established  the  requisite  shrines, 
festivals,  priesthoods  and  rituals.  The  early  kings  exercised 
some  priestly  functions  themselves  and  appointed  priests  to 
attend  to  the  rest.  When  the  republic  was  established  a 


THE  ROMAN  REPUBLIC  121 

pontifical  college  was  appointed  to  look  after  these  matters. 
The  Roman  conception  of  religion  was  unimaginative  and 
thoroughly  practical.  Whenever  a  value  was  seen  to  require 
religious  conservation,  the  appropriate  gods  and  rites  were 
determined,  and  what  was  believed  requisite  was  carefully 
carried  out.  Little  time  was  wasted  in  speculation  about  the 
nature  of  any  of  the  gods,  whether  in  the  form  of  myth  or 
philosophy,  and  the  early  Roman  gods  remained  shadowy 
numena.  They  were  by  no  means  clearly  defined  anthropo- 
morphic deities  like  those  of  Greece.  Religion,  however,  was 
simple,  straightforward,  comparatively  free  from  savage 
grossness,  and  it  effectively  conserved  the  simple  and  stern 
virtue  of  the  times.  Roman  family  worship  and  the  religious 
side  of  the  induction  of  Roman  youth  into  citizenship  have 
already  been  noticed. 

As  the  Roman  state  expanded  and  the  other  states  in  Italy 
became  successively  incorporated  within  it,  the  Roman  state 
took  over  such  of  their  deities,  ceremonies  and  priesthoods  as 
seemed  necessary  to  conserve  the  newly  acquired  territory  and 
population  for  the  Romans.  Such  religious  worship  was 
continued  in  the  name  of  the  Roman  people,  either  on  the 
conquered  territory  or  transferred  to  Rome  itself.  Southern 
Italy  was  Greek  in  culture  and  religion,  and  when  this  region 
was  conquered  by  the  Romans,  the  latter  came  into  contact  with 
the  Greek  gods.  The  worship  of  these  was  gradually  adopted 
in  Rome,  and  in  many  cases  Greek  gods  were  identified  with  old 
Roman  deities  who  thus  took  on  the  anthropomorphic  charac- 
teristics of  the  Olympians.  The  Greek  conceptions  were  so 
much  richer  in  every  way  that  they  gradually  supplanted  the 
few  notions  the  Romans  originally  had  regarding  the  gods. 
In  times  of  distress — plague,  famine,  threatened  war,  or 
strange  portents — it  was  decided  what  new  deity  and  ritual 
should  be  imported  in  order  to  avert  disaster  and  promote  the 
public  welfare.  This  process  continued  throughout  pagan 
times,  and  deities  and  rites  from  all  over  the  world  became 
established  in  Rome. 

In  the  case  of  the  Romans,  no  less  than  of  the  Greeks,  the 
religion  of  the  city  state  ultimately  gave  way.  Though  Rome 
conquered  the  world,  instead  of  being  subdued  by  a  foreign 
power,  her  republican  institutions  broke  down  in  the  process 
of  expansion.  The  citizens  lost  their  freedom.  Morality  and 
religion  could  no  longer  be  defined  for  the  Roman  in  terms  of 


the  republican  state  of  earlier  times.  The  last  century  of  the 
republic  was  a  time  of  deplorable  political  and  social  corruption 
and  decay.  The  state  was  the  victim  of  a  succession  of 
demagogues,  military  dictators,  and  political  adventurers. 
Private  morality  also  was  in  a  state  of  decline.  The  old  respect 
for  ancestral  customs  had  disappeared.  Family  life  was 
breaking  down.  Divorces,  hardly  heard  of  in  the  olden  time, 
had  become  scandalously  common.  All  forms  of  sexual  vice 
were  practised.  The  influence  of  Stoicism  and  other  forms  of 
Greek  philosophy  did  not  avail  to  arrest  the  downward 
tendencies,  though  they  helped  a  little  to  retard  them  among 
the  cultivated  classes. 

VIII — Religion  and  the  Roman  Emperors 

So,  with  the  establishment  of  order  in  imperial  times, 
Augustus  and  his  successors  had  to  do  more  than  simply 
maintain  discipline  in  the  army  and  peace  in  the  provinces. 
They  had  to  provide  efficient  executives  and  courts  for  the  city 
of  Rome  and  for  the  world.  They  had  to  pass,  and,  as  well 
as  they  could,  enforce  laws  calculated  to  reform  civic  and 
domestic  morals.  In  the  effort  to  effect  these  reforms  they 
recognized  the  need  of  religion.  Augustus  and  Tiberius  revived 
as  many  religious  features  of  earlier  and  purer  times  as  they 
could.  They  built  many  temples  and  revived  many  forms  of 
worship,  naturally  associating  them  with  the  imperial  house 
so  as  to  strengthen  its  authority  and  prestige. 

One  serious  religious  problem  confronted  this  age.  In 
earlier  times  there  had  been  a  single  god  who,  above  all  others, 
protected  the  state, — Jupiter  Stator.  Now,  everywhere  in  the 
the  empire,  people  knew  of  such  a  god  as  Jupiter  or  Zeus ;  but 
they  conceived  him  quite  diversely,  and  there  was  no  recognized 
ritual  or  Bible  or  church  or  system  of  dogma  that  could  bind 
the  world  in  common  loyalty  to  Jupiter  or  any  other  god  as 
protector  of  the  state.  The  attempted  solution  was  to  revere 
the  emperor  himself  as  such  a  god.  So,  during  his  lifetime  in 
the  provinces,  and  after  his  death  in  both  Rome  and  the 
provinces,  Augustus  became  a  god  (divus)  and  loyal  citizens 
and  subjects  did  him  reverence  as  such.  Several  of  his 
successors  during  the  first  century  A.  D.  also  became  reverenced 
as  gods;  and,  later  on,  every  emperor  as  a  matter  of  course 
became  divine.  To  be  sure,  none  of  the  emperors  were  perfect 
in  their  private  or  public  conduct.  But  neither  were  any  of 


THE  ROMAN  EMPIRE  123 

the  gods  of  mythology,  for  that  matter.  Augustus,  Vespasian 
and  Trajan  were  truly  great  men,  who  labored  wisely  and  well 
for  the  good  of  the  world;  they  were  certainly  as  good  and 
heroic  as  any  of  the  gods  of  mythology.  And  they  were 
historical  characters  of  whom  all  men  knew,  and  whom  all 
respected.  So  soldiers  reverently  swore  to  obey  the  emperor  as 
a  god,  and  every  good  citizen  was  expected  to  show  his  loyalty 
and  obedience  to  the  government  by  revering  the  statues  of 
the  emperor,  which  were  erected  everywhere. 

Roman  lawyers  and  jurists  found  much  inspiration  in  Stoic 
conceptions  of  a  universal  law  and  reason,  and  succeeded  in 
working  out  many  of  the  principles  of  natural  law  and  natural 
right  that  underlie  modern  political  justice.  Stoic  philosophers 
went  about  teaching  people,  and  addressing  them  in  public 
gatherings.  Neo-platonic  philosophers  sought  through 
mystical  trances  to  gain  closer  and  more  intimate  union  with 
God,  and  so  to  gain  spiritual  and  moral  reinforcement  for  daily 
duties.  Philosophy  to  some  extent  took  the  place  of  religion 
for  the1  more  cultivated  classes.  It  lacked,  however,  the  warmth 
and  intimacy  of  the  old  anthropomorphic  gods  whom  their  less 
educated  ancestors  had  been  able  to  worship  with  joyous 
confidence. 

IX — Mystery  Religions  in  the  Roman  Emffire 

The  masses  of  people  in  Roman  imperial  times,  as  well  as 
the  classes,  had  lost  much  of  the  earlier  faith  in  the  old  gods 
of  family  and  state  religion.  And  they  were  not  intellectual 
enough  to  gain  help  from  philosophy.  So  they  turned  to  the 
extravagant  and  imposing  religious  cults  that  came  into  the 
Graeco-Roman  world  from  Egypt  and  the  Orient. 

The  Romans  of  the  empire  were  attracted  to  mystery 
religions  through  much  the  same  motives  that  had  influenced 
Greeks  in  the  same  direction  from  an  earlier  time — desire  for 
personal  immortality  and  for  some  assurance  of  divine  favor 
and  support  in  this  life.  Three  mystery  religions  had  wide 
popularity  and  influence.  In  order  of  increasing  importance 
these  were:  the  cult  of  Cybele  and  her  son  Attis,  which  had 
originated  in  Phrygia;  that  of  Isis  and  her  son  Osiris,  two 
Egyptian  deities;  and  that  of  Mithra,  which  was  probably 
of  Persian  origin.  In  each  of  the  two  first  mentioned  the 
central  idea  is  this :  the  goddess  had  lost  her  son  by  death,  and 
had  succeeded  in  effecting  his  resurrection;  those  who  are 


GREECE  AND  ROME 

properly  initiated  into  the  mysteries  and  celebrate  the 
anniversary  of  the  god's  death  with  mourning  and  that  of  his 
resurrection  with  rej  oicirig  thereby  become  partakers  of  his 
divine  nature  and  his  immortality.  The  ceremonies  connected 
with  the  Phrygian  religion  were  imposing  and  emotionally 
exciting;  unfortunately  they  retained  gross  features  of  their 
savage  origin.  The  religion  of  Isis  was  more  refined,  coming 
as  it  did  from  an  older  civilization.  Its  ritual  was  beautiful 
and  impressive,  its  temples  imposing;  the  secrecy  of  the 
ceremonies  aroused  the  awe  of  the  initiates ;  there  were  elements 
of  spirituality  in  the  worship. 

From  the  second  to  the  fourth  century,  A.  D.,  the  most 
vigorous  rival  of  Christianity  was  probably  the  religion  of 
Mithra.  Though  older  than  Christianity,  it  became  an  actively 
growing  religion,  only  half  a  century  earlier  (about  the  middle 
of  the  first  century,  B.  C.). 

The  mysteries  of  Mithra  appealed  primarily  to  soldiers. 
Legions  were  doubtless  often  recruited  in  the  east,  where  the 
religion  had  its  home,,  and  wherever  these  legions  were  later  sent, 
the  disciples  of  Mithra  in  them  became  active  propagandists. 
So  ruins  of  ancient  Mithraeums  are  bound  to-day  all  along  the 
former  frontiers  of  the  Roman  empire  (where  there  were 
military  camps),  as  well  as  in  the  city  and  seaport  of  ancient 
Rome  itself.  Only  men  were  initiated  into  these  mysteries.  It 
was  a  kind  of  free  masonry ;  there  were  seven  different  orders 
into  which  the  worshipper. might  successively  be  initiated.  After 
passing  severe  tests  of  endurance,  and  taking  oaths  of  devotion 
to  the  god  and  order  and  receiving  a  sacrament,  the  mysteries 
would  be  revealed  to  a  candidate.  The  fact  that  ruins  of 
temples  of  the  Great  Mother  are  often  found  in  proximity  to 
those  of  Mithra  has  led  to  the  supposition  that  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  the  followers  of  Mithra  worshipped  Cybele  and 
Attis. 

Mithra  was  a  mythological  deity  who  sprang  miraculously 
into  life  from  a  rock  and  performed  all  sorts  of  heroic  deeds, 
such  as  would  appeal  to  the  admiration  of  soldiers.  He 
overcame  the  sun  god  and  made  him  his  faithful  vassal  and 
ally.  His  chief  exploit  was  a  painful  journey  to  kill  a  bull  that 
was  working  great  destruction  to  mankind.  From  the  body 
of  the  slain  bull  came  useful  herbs  and  plants ;  from  the  spinal 
cord  wheat  came  into  existence  and  from  the  blood  came  the 
wine.  (Hence  bread  and  wine  were  used  in  a  sacrament.)  In 


MYSTERY  RELIGIONS  125 

the  course  of  his  exploits  he  struck  a  rock  with  arrows  and 
water  gushed  forth.  Later  on,  there  came  a  flood,  from  which 
one  man,  secretly  advised  by  the  gods,  built  a  boat  and  escaped 
with  his  cattle.  Mithra  celebrated  a  Last  Supper  with  the  Sun 
God  and  other  companions,  after  which  he  ascended  into  the 
heavens.  When  a  man  dies,  his  soul  goes  to  face  Mithra  after 
death,  and  he  is  judged  according  to  his  deserts.  At  the  end 
of  the  world,  Mithra  shall  summon  the  dead  from  their  graves 
and  hold  a  Last  Judgment.  The  wicked-  shall  be  consumed  in 
fire,  while  the  faithful  shall  reign  with  Mithra  forever. 

If  in  the  second  or  third  century  A.  D.,  a  visitor  had 
entered  a  place  devoted  to  the  worship  of  Mithra,  and  then 
one  devoted  to  the  worship  of  Christ,  he  would  have  found  many 
similar  features.  In  each  case,  the  place  of  worship  would  have 
been  likely  to  have  been  underground.  There  would  have  been 
a  nave  and  side  aisles,  and  an  upraised  place  where  stood  the 
altar.  Behind  the  altar,  or  above  it,  there  would  probably 
have  been  a  work  of  art  depicting  the  suffering  on  the  part  of 
a  god  in  human  form,  suffering  through  which  it  was  thought 
salvation  comes  to  men.  For  on  the  countenance  of  Mithra  in 
the  act  of  slaying  the  bull,  the  sculptors  depicted  extreme 
agony,  almost  comparable  to  that  of  a  Christian  crucifix  or 
pieta.  On  entering  either  Mithraeum.  or  Christian  church, 
worshippers  dipped  their  fingers  into  holy  water.  Initiates  to 
both  religions  were  baptized,  and  partook  of  the  bloodless 
sacrifice  of  bread  and  wine.  The  sign  of  the  cross  was  made 
upon  the  foreheads  of  Mithra  initiates  with  a  red  hot  iron, 
testing  their  courage  and  leaving  an  indelible  reminder  of  their 
vows.  The  twenty-fifth  day  of  December  was  a  holiday  for  the 
worshippers  of  Mithra,  on  which  they  celebrated  the  birth  of 
the  sun  (the  days  began  perceptibly  to  lengthen  then)  ;  and 
on  that  day  families  feasted  and  exchanged  gifts. 

The  values  conserved  by  Mithraism  included  loyalty  to  one's 
fellow  members,  and  to  Mithra  their  saviour.  It  seems  to  have 
upheld  the  ordinary  principles  of  morality  taught  by  all  ethical 
religions.  It  probably  differed  chiefly  from  Christianity  in 
putting  more  emphasis  on  physical  courage  and  other  masculine 
virtues,  and  less  upon  more  feminine  virtues  like  love,  meekness, 
pity,  and  endurance.  It  was  a  spiritual  religion,  however,  and 
through  prayer  and  sacraments  gave  men  a  feeling  of  divine 
presence  and  help,  and  a  hope  of  immortality.  It  also  differed 
from  Christianity  in  making  more  of  loyalty  and  devotion  to 


GREECE  AND  ROME 

the  empire  and  emperor.  Above  all,  it  differed  in  emphasizing 
the  military  virtues,  whereas  the  Christians  of  those  times 
were  often  pacifists  and  thought  all  warfare  wrong.  Since 
Mithraism  tolerated  the  other  forms  of  religious  worship,  it 
could  readily  be  accepted  by  those  who  desired  its  spiritual 
support,  and  yet  did  not  want  to- turn  their  backs  upon  the  faith 
of  their  fathers.  So  Mithraism  gained  general  favor  far  more 
rapidly  than  Christianity. 

But  the  very  tolerance  of  Mithraism  prevented  it  from 
developing  into  a  completely  spiritual  religion.  It  could  not 
free  itself  wholly  from  primitive  superstitions.  With  no  room 
.  for  women  to  participate  in  its  worship,  it  lacked  the  support 
of  those  who  always  have  been  the  mainstay  of  Christianity 
("last  at  the  cross  and  first  at  the  tomb").  This  lack  forced 
Mithraism  to  provide  for  the  womenfolk  of  its  members  by 
associating  itself  with  the  worship  of  Attis,  full  of  superstitions 
and  degrading  practises.  By  its  intolerance  of  everything 
pagan,  Christianity  kept  absolutely  free  from  debasing  contacts 
with  other  faiths.  Its  communion  included  women  as  well  as 
men.  Instead  of  a  mythical  hero,  Christianity  had  the 
advantage  of  an  historic  man,  who  had  led  a  blameless  life  in 
recent  times,  as  its  Founder.  It  was  thus  able  to  exalt  the 
moral  values  in  absolute  purity,  and  to  conserve  them  through 
a  sublime  Saviour  God  and  a  consecrated  Church.  Christianity 
won  a  complete  victory  over  its  rivals,  the  mystery  religions, 
because  of  its  moral  and  spiritual  superiority. 

X — The  Debt  of  Modern  Religion  to  Greece  and  Rome 

In  many  respects  the  religious  history  of  Greece  and  Rome 
was  one  of  failure.  This  was  not  owing  to  the  lack  of  intel- 
lectual recognition  and  appreciation  of  the  higher  moral  values. 
On  this  side  the  Greeks  and  Romans  were  more  successful,  on 
the  whole,  than  the  Hebrews.  But  they  could  not  find  an 
adequate  Agency  through  whom  they  might  seek  the  conserva- 
tion of  their  values.  No  conception  of  God  took  root  in  the 
sentiments  of  the  people  generally  that  was  both  intellectually 
and  morally  adequate.  The  Stoic  conception  though  in  many 
ways  intellectually  and  morally  sublime,  did  not  furnish  a 
strong  enough  emotional  appeal  to  incite  men  to  do  their  best, 
and  to  afford  them  a  sense  of  strength  and  support  in  their 
endeavors.  The  mystery  religions  were  more  potent  emotionally, 
but  they  were  never  quite  convincing  intellectually,  and  they 


CONTRIBUTIONS  127 

never  reached  a  sufficiently  pure  moral  plane.  And  neither 
philosophical  school  nor  mystery  cult  developed  into  a  highly 
organized  church,  with  strong  ties  of  love  binding  its  members 
together  in  common  loyalty  to  one  another  and  to  God.  So  we 
may  say  that  the  ultimate  failure  of  Greek  and  Roman 
religions  was  one  of  inadequacy  in  finding  an  Agency  through 
which  to  seek  the  conservation  of  their  socially  recognized 
values. 

Nevertheless,  the  present-day  religions  of  the  west,  both 
Christian  and  Jewish,  owe  a  very  great  deal  to  the  Greeks  and 
Romans. 

First,  on  the  side  of  the  recognition  of  values.  The  Old 
Testament  and  the  New,  taken  literally,  contain  no  such  clearly 
developed  conceptions  of  social  and  political  justice  as  are  to 
be  found  in  the  teaching  of  Socrates,  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  the 
Stoics.  These  conceptions  are  quite  in  the  spirit  of  Christianity 
and  Judaism  as  we  know  them,  of  course,  and  the  latter 
religions  long  ago  so  thoroughly  assimilated  the  Greek 
teachings  that  ministers  and  rabbis  unconsciously  read  them 
into  Scripture  texts  in  a  manner  that  accrues  to  the  moral 
benefit  of  their  listeners  almost  as  much  as  if  preachers  and 
congregations  knew  the  real  sources  of  this  particular  side  of 
their  moral  convictions.  Almost  all  of  our  understanding  of 
civic  rights  and  obligations  is  derived  from  Greece  and  Rome. 
Realization  of  the  fact  that  morality  cannot  adequately  take 
root  in  individuals  if  social  and  political  relations  are  neglected 
is  chiefly  due  to  the  Greeks.  Regard  for  law  and  consciousness 
of  responsibility  for  making  the  laws  what  they  are,  and  for 
their  enforcement,  come  under  this  head.  The  conception  'of 
God  as  our  heavenly  Father  and  of  all  men  as  our  brothers 
was  far  more  clearly  and  emphatically  stated  by  the  Stoics 
than  by  any  Hebrew  predecessors  of  Jesus  and  Paul.J 
Reverence  for  family  ties,  the  duty  to  honor  one's  father  and 
mother,  were  equally  taught  by  Hebrews,  Greeks,  and  Romans. 

Certain  moral  principles  were  even  more  clearly  recognized 
in  pre-Christian  Greek  and  Roman  times  than  they  have  been 
by  the  modern  world  until  the  last  century  or  two.  These 
principles  are  now,  of  course,  taught  by  Christians  and  Jews 
alike.  But  they  owe  their  origin  in  our  moral  consciousness 
to  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  Among  these  are  the  wrongfulness 
of  slavery  (which  the  Stoics  sharply  denounced  and  succeeded 
in  mitigating).  The  civic  rights  of  woman  were  more 


128  GREECE  AND  ROME 

generously  recognized  by  the  Romans  of  imperial  times  thai 
at  any  subsequent  period  of  European  history  prior  to  th< 
nineteenth  century.  The  recognition  of  the  principle  thai 
sovereignty  comes  from  the  people,  not  from  the  divini 
authority  of  rulers,  owes  much  to  modern  Christians,  especially 
to  Calvinists ;  but  this  is  a  Roman  conception  not  found  ii 
either  the  Old  or  the  New  Testament,  and  it  was  rejected  bj 
the  Christian  world  until  the  Renaissance.  All  attempts  t( 
formulate  principles  of  justice,  equity,  wisdom,  courage,  tern 
perance,  and  other  virtues,  rights  and  duties, — in  short  t< 
work  out  a  science  of  ethics,  law,  or  jurisprudence, — owe  theii 
original  impetus  to  Greece  and  Rome.  That  medieval  anc 
modern  Christian  and  Jewish  thought  contain  these  element: 
is  one  of  their  obligations  to  Greece  and  Rome — notably  tc 
Aristotle.  Finally,  though  the  Old  Testament  praises  wisdon 
highly,  recognition  of  the  importance  of  free  intellectua 
inquiry — freedom  of  thought,  speech  and  publication — 01 
religious  and  other  matters,  and  the  value  of  free  and  disinter 
ested  pursuit  of  truth  for  its  own  sake  are  Greek  values  o: 
which  Christianity  and  Judaism  remained  profoundly  unappre- 
ciative  until  well  into  modern  times.  So  it  is  not  too  much  t( 
-ty  that  a  very  large  portion  of  the  judgments  of  right  anc 
wrong  which  are  now  commonplace  Christian  and  Jewisl 
teaching  originated  in  the  minds  and  consciences  of  ancienl 

^Greeks  and  Romans. 

Our  modern  religions  owe  much  to  the  ancient  religions  oJ 

L  Greece  and  Rome  on  the  side  of  Agency,  including  theology 
ritual,  and  ecclesiastical  organization.  The  Jews  possessed 
little  or  nothing  in  the  way  of  systematic  philosophy  anc 
theology  until  their  contact  with  the  Greeks  began  after  th( 
conquests  of  Alexander  the  Great.  The  Christian  churcl: 
possessed  little  theology  in  New  Testament  times,  and  that  little 
came  chiefly  from  Hellenistic  sources.  The  subsequent  ancient, 
medieval,  and  modern  Christian  and  Jewish  attempts  to  prove 
the  existence  of  God,  to  describe  His  attributes,  and  to  explair 
His  relation  to  mankind,  the  problem  of  evil,  the  freedom  oi 
the  will,  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul  are  built  upon  the 
foundations  of  Greek  philosophy,  and,  for  the  most  part,  arc 
adaptations  of  Greek  ideas  and  arguments. 

On  the  side  of  ritual,  the  Christian  sacraments  of  baptism 
and  the  Lord's  supper  are  strikingly  similar  to  the  mysterj 
religions.  The  sermon,  as  has  been  remarked,  may  owe  its 


CONTRIBUTIONS  129 

origin  to  the  Stoics.  Christmas  and  Easter  were  both  pagan 
festivals  which  became  Christianized.  Many  details  in  the 
ceremonial  of  the  Catholic  churches, — both  Roman  and  Eastern 
— can  be  traced  to  Greek  and  Roman  sources. 

On  the  side  of  organization,  Christianity  owes  a  tremendous 
debt  to  Rome.  While  to  the  Jewish  synagogue  the  first 
Christian  congregations  owed  their  origin, — little  groups 
coming  together  for  common  worship, — the  later  development 
of  ecclesiastical  organization  is  chiefly  indebted  to  the  Romans. 
The  great  political  administrators  of  antiquity  were  the 
Romans.  As  Christianity  grew,  some  form  of  ecclesiastical 
organization  became  necessary.  The  parishes  and  dioceses  of 
ancient  and  modern  Catholic  Christianity,  together  with 
presbyters,  bishops,  archbishops,  and  patriarchs,  are  imitative 
of  Roman  imperial  administration.  The  same,  to  a  less  extent, 
is  true  of  all  Protestant  forms  of  Church  government,  whether 
presbyterian,  congregational,  or  episcopal.  To  the  ancient 
Roman  practical  spirit,  occidental  Christianity,  whether 
Roman  Catholic  or  Protestant,  owes  the  selection  of  workable 
theology  and  ritual  from  the  melange  of  doctrines  and  ceremo- 
nies that  arose  in  the  East.  To  a  combination  and  adaptation 
of  Greek  and  Roman  ideas  is  due  the  conception  of  the 
Christian  church  as  the  City  of  God,  composed  on  earth  of  the 
church  militant  and  in  Heaven  of  the  church  triumphant  with 
Christ  at  its  head. 

To  what  extent  modern  Judaism  is  indebted  to  Greek  and 
Roman  sources  on  the  sides  of  ritual  and  ecclesiastical 
organization,  the  author  does  not  feel  competent  to  express  an 
opinion.  The  indebtedness  is  undoubtedly  much  less  than  in 
the  case  of  Christianity.  On  the  side  of  theology  the  indebted- 
ness is  certainly  considerable,  and  it  must  be  remembered  that 
it  began  as  early  as  the  conquests  of  Alexander. 

The  modern  believer  in  either  Catholicism,  Protestantism  or 
Judaism  has  of  course  no  ground  for  distress  in  admitting  that 
the  God  of  his  faith  has  revealed  Himself  to  a  great  extent 
through  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  Religious  truths  and 
practises  are  precious,  whatever  their  source.  "By  their  fruits 

ye  shall  know  them." 

REFERENCES 

*GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE,  History  of  Religions,  Vol  I,  Chapters  XVII-XXTT. 
*E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS,  History  of  Religions,  Chapters  XXII,  XXIII. 
L.  T.  HOBIIOUSE,  Morals  in  Evolution,  Part  II,  Chapter  VI. 
*FREDERICH  PAULSEST,  System  of  Ethics,  Part  I,  Chapters  I,  III. 


130  GREECE  AND  ROME 

*G.  LOTTES  DICKINSON,  The  Greek  View  of  Life. 
*J.  DEWEY  AND  J.  H.  TUFTS,  Ethics,  Chapter  VII. 

MATTHEW  ARNOLD,  Essays  in  Criticism.     Culture  and  Anarchy. 
*L.  R.  FARNELL,  The  Higher  Aspects  of  Greek  Religion.     The  Cults  of 
the  Greek  States. 

*GILBERT  MURRAY,  Four  Stages  of  Greek  Religion. 

JANE   ELLEN   HARRISON,  Prolegomena  to   the  Study  of  Greek  Religion, 
*C.  H.  MOORE,  The  Religious  Thought  of  the  Greeks. 

E.  ZELLER,  A  History  of  Greek  Philosophy. 

TH.  GOMPERZ,  Greek  Thinkers. 

W.    WINDELBAND,   A    History    of   Philosophy.     A    History    of   Ancient 
Philosophy. 

*ARTHUR  FAIRBANKS,  A   Handbook  of  Greek  Religion. 

FUSTEL  DE  COULANGES,  The  Ancient  City. 

W.   WARDE   FOWLER,   The  Religious  Experience  of  the   Roman  People. 

J.  B.  CARTER,  The  Religion  of  Numa.     The  Religious  Life  of  Ancient 
Rome. 

*F.  CUMONT,  The  Mysteries  of  Mithra.    The  Oriental  Religions  in  Roman 
Paganism. 

G.  FERRERRO,  The  Greatness  and  Decline  of  Rome. 
*WALTEB  PATER,  Marius  the  Epicurean. 


CHAPTER    X 
JUDAISM 

I — Introduction 

THE  evolution  of  the  Jewish  religion  furnishes  a  contrast 
to  that  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans.  To  a  large  extent  the  Jews 
succeeded  where  th^  Greeks  and  Romans  failed,  and  failed  where 
they  succeeded.  For  the  conspicuous  success  of  Jewish 
religious  development  was  on  the  side  of  the  Agency  through 
which  conservation  of  values  was  sought.  By  the  time  of  the 
great  pre-exilic  prophets,  Israel  had  attained  an  anthropo- 
morphic conception  of  the  national  God  (Yahweh),  that, 
though  cruder  and  less  artistic  than  the  Homeric  gods,  was 
clear  cut  and  vivid,  and  presented  more  decided  moral  aspects. 
In  the  later  evolution,  the  conception  of  God  became  purified 
of  its  anthropomorphic  characteristics.  The  early  crudities, 
both  sensuous  and  moral,  vanished.  The  God  of  modern  Jewish 
theism  emerged — eternal,  omniscient,  omnipotent,  supremely 
just,  merciful,  righteous,  and  holy.  However,  in  contrast  to 
Greek  and  Indian  evolution,  in  the  process  of  deanthropomor- 
phization,  the  Hebrew  God  did  not  tend  to  become  an  abstrac- 
tion, intelligible  only  to  philosophical  thinkers  and  incapable 
of  appealing  to  the  understanding  and  emotions  of  the  plain 
man.  On  the  contrary,  the  religiously  desirable  features  of 
the  earlier  anthropomorphism  were  preserved.  Worshippers 
could  continue  reverently  and  lovingly  to  address  Him  as 
"Our  Father"  and  "Our  King,"  to  feel  assured  of  His  presence 
among  them,  of  His  sympathy,  love  and  guidance. 

On  the  institutional  side,  the  Jews  were  also  brilliantly 
successful.  In  the  Law  and  other  sacred  scriptures,  and  in  the 
worship  of  the  synagogue  and  the  home,  they  formed  ties  that 
have  bound  them  so  firmly  to  one  another  and  to  their  God 
Lhat  the  loss  of  their  country  and  the  persecutions  of  two 
thousand  years  have  not  availed  to  undermine  their  religion, 
or  to  impair  its  efficacy  in  the  conservation  of  the  values  dear 
to  them. 

181 


132  JUDAISM 

When,  on  the  other  hand,  we  turn  to  Judaism  for  light  upon 
the  definition  and  systematic  organization  of  values  we  are 
disappointed.  Though  passionate  in  their  love  of  justice, 
righteousness,  wisdom  and  truth,  the  Jews  have  contributed 
little  to  the  intellectual  comprehension  of  these  values,  either 
like  the  Greeks  in  philosophy,  or  like  the  Romans  in  law  and 
jurisprudence.  To  be  sure,  like  the  Christians,  they  learned 
to  appreciate  ancient  pagan  culture,  and  to  assimilate  some 
of  it  in  their  religion.  Maimonides  (fl204)  has  been  their 
greatest  philosopher,  1.  The  Jewish  religion  has  never  been 
able  to  expand  beyond  national  limits,  and  to  attain  the  cosmo- 
politanism of  the  Stoics.  Yet  it  has  furnished  the  nucleus 
for  two  international  religions.  To  its  conception  of  God,  its 
sacred  scriptures,  and  its  synagogue,  Christianity  and 
Mohammedanism  both  owe  their  origin. 

II — Historical  Outline 

The  history  of  Israel,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  can 
hardly  be  said  to  begin  until  the  reign  of  David,  in  the  tenth 
century  before  Christ.  However,  some  of  the  main  facts  of 
earlier  periods  are  fairly  clear.  The  Israelites  of  David's  time 
were  descended  from  a  fusion  that  had  taken  place  during  the 
three  centuries  previous,  between  nomadic  tribes  who  had 
invaded  Palestine  from  the  Arabian  desert,  and  the  earlier 
inhabitants  of  the  land.  The  nomads  brought  into  Palestine 
with  them  a  chest  (the  "ark"),  associated  with  the  worship  of 
their  war-god,  Yahweh.  According  to  traditions,  which  most 
historians  believe  must  have  a  basis  in  fact,  the  ancestors  of 
some  of  them  under  the  leadership  of  Moses  had  entered  into 
a  sort  of  covenant  with  Yahweh  by  which  they  agreed  to  obey 
him,  and  he  to  give  them  victory  in  war.  In  token  of  their 
allegiance  to  Yahweh,  they  practised  circumcision,  and 
celebrated  the  Passover,  a  sacrificial  meal  in  which  they  entered 
into  communion  with  him.  There  was  thus  a  note  of  moral 
obligation  and  a  sense  of  personal  relationship  in  Yahweh 
religion  from  the  start. 

Both  the  nomads  and  the  Canaanites  whom  they  conquered 
worshipped  spirits  inhabiting  trees,  rocks,  and  springs  of  water. 
Whether  they  worshipped  ancestral  ghosts  is  disputed.  There 
were  portable  objects  of  religious  devotion  (teraphim)  which 
may  have  been  fetiches.  Ephods  which  may  have  been  wooden 
or  stone  images  or  fetiches,  were  used  in  the  worship  of  Yahweh. 


HISTORICAL  OUTLINE  133 

The  nomads  were  a  simple  pastoral  people,  whose  chief  food  was 
probably  the  milk  of  sheep  and  goats.  The  Canaanites  were  an 
agricultural  people,  with  more  elaborate  religious  ceremonies 
containing  rites  suggestive  of  fertility,  and  attended  by  morally 
debasing  sexual  practises.  As  the  nomads  were  strangers  in  the 
land,  they  united  in  the  worship  of  the  local  Canaanite  nature 
spirits  (Baalim)  who  were  thought  to  give  the  products  of  the 
land, — the  corn,  wine,  oil,  and  flax.  Yahweh,  the  war  god  of  the 
conquerors,  naturally  became  the  god  of  the  newly  formed 
nation.  To  some  extent,  he  gradually  displaced  the  Baalim 
in  the  local  shrines  ("high  places")  and  in  addition  to  his  other 
functions,  became  a  conservor  of  agricultural  values.  Some 
of  the  grosser  features  of  Canaanite  worship  were  retained  in 
the  ritual  of  Yahweh  at  these  shrines. 

As  the  disorganized  condition  of  the  Israelite  tribes  described 
in  the  book  of  Judges  gave  place  to  the  centralized  monarchy, 
the  worship  of  Yahweh,  the  national  god,  gained  in  prestige. 
David,  and  his  son  and  successor  Solomon,  did  what  they  could 
to  conserve  national  unity  by  centralizing  Yahweh  worship  in 
their  capital,  Jerusalem,  where  Solomon  built  a  magnificent 
temple  in  which  the  "ark"  was  placed.  After  the  death  of 
Solomon,  the  tribes  inhabiting  the  northern  part  of  the  country 
refused  to  accept  his  son  Rehaboam  as  their  king,  and  set  up 
an  independent  kingdom.  The  northern  tribes  thereafter 
worshipped  Yahweh  in  sanctuaries  of  their  own  at  Bethel  and 
Dan.  But  in  both  kingdoms  the  grosser  worship  of  Yahweh  at 
local  country  shrines  grew  into  disfavor  in  comparison  with 
the  ritual  at  the  central  sanctuaries,  which  was  more  imposing 
and  meticulous,  and  most  of  the  time  at  least,  on  a  higher 
ethical  plane. 

In  both  kingdoms  economic  development  was  attended  by 
unequal  distribution  of  wealth,  exploitation  of  the  poor,  and 
political  corruption.  At  the  same  time  the  rise  of  powerful 
and  hostile  nations  to  the  east,  the  Assyrians  and  Babylonians, 
threatened  the  future  existence  of  Israel.  Various  reformers, 
the  pre-exilic  prophets,  insisted  that  Yahweh  demanded  a  large 
measure  of  social  justice  in  the  land,  and  that,  in  case  his 
command  was  not  obeyed,  he  would  in  punishment  allow  the 
nation  to  be  conquered  by  their  enemies.  The  result  of  the 
work  of  these  prophets  was  to  give  the  nation  a  conception  of 
Yahweh  purged  from  the  crude  sensuous  imagery  and  unmoral 
features  which  it  had  previously  had.  The  prophets  met  with 


JUDAISM 

opposition,  however,  and,  except  for  a  short-lived  attempt  by 
King  Josiah  (about  B.  C.  621)  the  reforms  which  they 
advocated  were  not  put  into  effect  until  after  the  exile.  Both 
kingdoms  were  conquered, — the  northern  one  by  the  Assyrians 
in  722  B.  C.,  the  southern  by  the  Babylonians  in  586  B.  C.  In 
the  latter  year  Nebuchadnezzar,  king  of  Babylon,  took 
numerous  members  of  the  royal  and  noble  Jewish  families  back 
with  him  in  exile  to  Babylon.  This  is  what  is  known  as  "the 
exile,"  and  thus  began  the  residence  in  considerable  numbers 
of  Jews  outside  of  Palestine  and  their  "dispersion"  throughout 
the  civilized  world.  Babylonia  in  turn,  together  with  Pales- 
tine, came  under  the  rule  of  Persia  in  538  B.  C. 

The  Persian  rulers  were  more  kindly  in  their  treatment  of  the 
Jews,  and  permitted  some  of  the  exiles  in  Babylon  to  return  to 
Jerusalem — "the  return  from  the  exile,"  from  which  dates  "the 
post-exilic  period."  They  succeeded  in  rebuilding  the  temple 
at  Jerusalem  under  the  governor  Zerubbabel.  The  experience 
of  the  exile  had  impressed  upon  the  national  consciousness  the 
teachings  of  the  pre-exilic  prophets.  Henceforth  Jews 
worshipped  no  god  but  Yahweh,  whom  they  now  believed  to 
be  the  only  God.  They  put  into  written  form  the  ritual  for 
his  worship,  in  which  the  use  of  images  of  all  kinds  was  strictly 
forbidden,  as  well  as  the  legislation  in  the  interests  of  social 
justice  which  the  prophets  had  enjoined.  Ezra  played  an 
important  part  in  this  work.  The  various  codes  of  law  and 
ritual  became  ultimately  combined  into  the  law  (the  Pentateuch 
or  Tor  ah)  the  supremely  inspired  authority  of  Judaism  ever 
since.  Synagogues  were  established  wherever  there  were  Jews, 
in  which  they  assembled  to  hear  the  Law  read  and  expounded, 
as  well  as  to  engage  in  prayer  and  hymns  of  praise.  In  the 
home,  too,  from  then  till  now,  it  has  been  the  duty  of  the 
father  to  teach  the  more  fundamental  religious  precepts  to  his 
children  and  to.  observe  family  worship,  especially  the  Passover. 

When  Palestine  came  under  the  dominion  of  Alexander  the 
Great  (B.  C.  332)  and  his  Egyptian  successors,  the  Ptolemies, 
conditions  changed  little,  except  that  many  Jews  emigrated  and 
formed  large  colonies  in  Alexandria  and  elsewhere;  so  from 
that  time  on  more  Jews  have  lived  outside  of  Palestine  than 
within  it.  The  Seleucid  dynasty,  who  got  control  of  Palestine 
in  B.  C.  200,  were  less  tactful  in  their  treatment  of  the  Jews 
than  the  Persians  and  Ptolemies  had  been.  One  of  them, 
Antiochus  Epiphanes,  fell  into  a  bitter  quarrel  with  the  Jews. 


HISTORICAL  OUTLINE  135 

In  B.«  C.  168  he  partly  destroyed  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  and 
inaugurated  the  worship  of  Zeus  Olympics  on  the  great  altar  of 
Yahweh.  The  devout  Jews  successfully  resisted,  under  the 
leadership  of  the  Maccabees,  and  were  able  to  rededicate  the 
temple  to  Yahweh  in  B.  C.  165.  Simon  succeeded  in  founding 
a  comparatively  independent  Jewish  dynasty,  which  he 
strengthened  by  a  treaty  with  the  Romans  in  B.  C.  143.  Under 
Alexander  Jannaeus  (B.  C.  102-75)  the  kingdom  compared  in 
territorial  extent  with  what  it  had  been  under  David.  This 
period  of  Maccabean  independence  and  greatness  strengthened 
the  faith  of  the  Jews  in  their  religion.  Yahweh  clearly  was 
their  sustainer;  and  they  began  to  dream  that  he  would 
ultimately  give  them  the  rule  of  the  world. 

But  the  Jewish  kingdom  did  not  long  prosper.  Jerusalem 
was  captured  in  B.  C.  63  by  Pompey,  and  Judea  became 
dependent  on  the  Roman  province  of  Syria.  The  nationalistic 
and  imperialistic  dreams  of  Jewish  enthusiasts  made  them 
difficult  for  the  Romans  to  govern,  either  through  the  Jewish 
royal  family,  the  Herods,  or  through  imperial  procurators  like 
Pontius  Pilate.  Visionaries  kept  proclaiming  the  coming  of  a 
Messiah  whom  Yahweh  would  establish  as  their  king  and  enable 
to  expel  the  Romans,  conquer  all  nations,  and  make  them 
tributary  to  the  Jews.  The  inscription  placed  over  Jesus  on 
the  cross  indicates  that  he  was  condemned  (wrongly,  of  course) 
on  the  charge  of  being  such  a  revolutionist.  An  unusually 
fierce  rebellion  started  by  the  Zealots,  the  leading  revolutionary 
party,  was  put  down  by  Titus  in  70  A.  D.,  who  destroyed  the 
temple.  A  last  futile  Jewish  struggle  in  135  A.  D.  was  put 
down,  and  the  emperor  Hadrian  erected  a  temple  to  Jupiter 
Capitolanus  on  the  site  of  the  temple  of  Yahweh  in  Jerusalem 
and  renamed  the  city  Aelia  Capitolina. 

The  priestly  cultus  of  the  temple  perished  with  the  Jewish 
state.  Only  the  worship  of  the  synagogue  and  the  home 
remained.  These,  however,  became  purified  and  strengthened, 
and  the  study  of  the  Law  continued.  The  codification  of  the 
oral  Law  and  its  promulgation  in  the  Mishna  were  effected 
in  the  third  century,  A.  D.  For  centuries  later,  further 
interpretation  of  the  Mishna  continued.  This  had  become. in  turn 
codified  in  the  rival  Talmuds  of  the  Palestinian  and  Babylonian 
schools  by  the  end  of  the  fifth  century.  The  Babylonian 
Talmud  ultimately  became  authoritative  everywhere.  The 
devout  study  and  interpretation  of  the  Law  have  continued  ever 


136  JUDAISM 

since,  but  with  no  essential  changes  until  the  close  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  Since  then  there  have  been  movements 
to  liberalize  the  religion  and  to  bring  it  into  conformity  with 
natural  science,  Biblical  higher  criticism,  and  modern  condi- 
tions in  general.  Jews  in  the  United  States  at  the  present  time 
are  accordingly  either  "orthodox"  or  "reform"  (conservative 
or  liberal)  as  they  oppose  or  favor  these  movements.  They 
have  formed  independent  religious  societies  along  the  line  of 
this  distinction. 

Ill — The  Prophets  Before  the  Exile 

The  development  of  the  conception  of  Yahweh  into  that  of 
an  effective  Agency  for  the  conservation  of  the  higher  moral 
values,  as  has  been  said,  was  largely  the  work  of  the  prophets. 
These  prophets  were  men  who  through  reflection,  prayer,  and 
visions  felt  themselves  guided  by  a  power  not  themselves.  This 
power  they  identified  with  Yahweh,  or  the  "spirit  of  Yahweh." 
Psychologically  speaking,  this  power  must  have  been  similar 
to  what  we  have  known  in  earlier  chapters  as  mana.  It  was 
principally  due  to  the  subconsciousness.  The  content  of  the 
teaching  of  the  prophets  was  the  ideas  that  they  were  able 
to  think  out  for  themselves  in  the  light  of  their  moral  convic- 
tions, their  knowledge  of  the  times,  and  of  the  history  and 
traditions  of  their  religion.  These  they  publicly  proclaimed 
with  absolute  sincerity  as  the  words  of  Yahweh.  It  seemed 
to  them  that  they  were  delivering  messages  from  him  to  the 
people.  Predictions  of  future  events  were  often  made  by  them 
as  incidental  to  their  main  purpose  of  inducing  Israel  to  obey 
the  commands  of  Yahweh  which  they  announced.  Later,  the 
more  important  addresses  of  these  prophets  were  put  into 
written  form,  either  by  themselves  or  by  others.  So  far  as  the 
modern  Jew  or  Christian  believes  that  these  messages  of  the 
prophets  constitute  a  genuine  advance  in  the  evolution  of 
religion,  he  may  regard  them  as  indeed  divinely  inspired. 

The  conception  of  Yahweh  that  had  come  down  from  the 
early  nomadic  invaders  was  simple.  He  was  an  idealization  of 
the  sheiks  with  whom  they  were  familiar,  whose  attitude  toward 
his  tribesmen  showed  rough  kindly  affect  Jon  and  justice,  but 
who  was  at  times  impulsive,  angry,  and  jealous.  Yahweh 
stood  for  the  social  solidarity  of  the  tribes  whom  he  ruled; 
he  maintained  among  them  the  sacred  duty  to  avenge  the 
wrongs  done  to  kinsmen,  and  to  be  kind  in  the  treatment  of  the 


PROPHETS  BEFORE  EXILE        137 

unfortunate  members  of  Israel, — the  poor,  the  fatherless,  the 
widow,  the  slave,  and  the  concubine.  He  expected  men  to  keep 
their  word ;  to  violate  an  oath  made  in  his  name  was  a  serious 
matter.  His  justice  was  that  of  collective  responsibility;  he 
would  send  defeat  upon  the  whole  nation  because  one  man 
stole  some  of  the  spoil  that  had  been  consecrated  to  himself,  2. 
He  punished  children  down  to  the  fourth  generation  for  the 
sins  of  their  fathers,  3.  Though  the  blood  feud  and  collective 
responsibility  seem  barbaric  to  us,  they  constitute  a  genuine 
advance  in  moral  and  social  evolution  in  comparison  with  the 
eras  that  preceded  their  appearance.  To  be  sure,  Yahweh  had 
many  traits  that  would  appear  to  us  to  be  moral  imperfections. 
For  instance,  Moses  had  to  deter  him  from  destroying  Israel 
in  a  momentary  fit  of  anger  by  reminding  him  what  the 
Egyptians  would  think  of  him,  4»:  Jael  is  "most  blessed  among 
women"  for  the  treacherous  murder,  in  the  national  interest, 
of  a  trusting  friend  who  was  at  peace  with  her  husband  and 
herself,  5 ;  and  David  is  prompted  by  Yahweh  to  take  a  census 
of  the  land,  and  then  he  and  the  people  are  punished  by  a 
pestilence,  6.  But,  for  all  these  faults,  Yahweh  was-  doubtless 
more  nearly  morally  perfect  than  any  human  Semitic  father 
or  ruler,  and  they  attributed  to  him  in  idealized  form  those 
characteristics  of  a  king  and  a  father  which  they  knew. 

The  crudeness  and  naivete  of  the  early  conception  of 
Yahweh  are  shown  in  the  myths  of  Genesis.  Yahweh  walks  in 
the  garden  of  Eden  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  while  Adam  and  Eve 
try  to  hide  from  him  behind  trees,  just  as  naughty  children 
might  hide,  from  a  parent,  7.  Noah  offers  him  a  sacrifice,  and 
the  sweet  savor  tickles  his  nostrils,  and  he  goodnaturedly 
declares  that  for  man's  sake  he  will  never  again  send  a  destruc- 
tive curse  upon  the  earth,  8.  He  eats  a  meal  with  Abraham,  9. 
That  a  folk  who  thought  of  their  national  god  so  simply  and 
childishly  could  have  endowed  him  with  such  clear  cut  moral 
attributes  is  significant.  The  myths  are  serious ;  their  inten- 
tion is  to  explain  his  goodness  in  creating  the  world,  and  in 
instituting  the  sabbath  as  a  day  for  rest ;  his  stern  punishment 
of  sin;  his  call  of  their  ancestors  and  his  protecting  care  over 
them ;  and  so  on.  There  is  nothing  of  the  artistic  genius  of 
the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey,  or  the  pre-scientific  attempts  at 
cosmic  explanation  of  Hesiod.  The  Genesis  rnyths  never  involve 
Yahweh  in  murder,  adultery  nor  theft.  They  are  reverent,  and 
they  move  on  a  high  moral  plane.  Though  undoubtedly  myths, 


138  JUDAISM 

the  modern  Jew  may  rightfully  regard  them  as  inspired  myths, 
displaying  a  moral  dignity  and  earnestness  not  to  be  found, 
probably,  in  any  other  myths  produced  by  a  people  on  the 
same  level  of  culture. 

So  the  prophets  had  a  solid  foundation  upon  which  to  build 
their  morally  advanced  conception  of  God.  The  evils  attacked 
by  the  prophets  before  the  exile  come  chiefly  under  two  heads. 
First,  with  increase  of  wealth  and  material  prosperity  sharp 
economic  inequalities  had  appeared.  The  rich  had  grown  richer 
and  the  poor  poorer.  The  rulers  were  corrupt ;  the  judges  took 
bribes.  According  to  Amos,  a  poor  debtor  would  be  sold  into 
slavery  because  he  could  not  pay  for  a  pair  of  shoes,  10.  The 
women  urge  the  men  to  oppression  to  obtain  the  means  for 
indulgence  in  strong  drink,  11.  Hosea  laments  that  there  is  no 
true  knowledge  of  Yahweh  in  the  land;  "nought  but  swearing 
and  breaking  faith,  and  killing,  and  stealing,  and  committing 
adultery,"  12.  Micah  accuses  the  nobles  of  seizing  unlawfully 
the  fields  and  homes  of  the  poor,  plundering  travelers  on  the 
highway,  evicting  women  from  their  homes  and  selling  children 
into  .slavery,  13.  Isaiah  makes  similar  charges,  14?.  Secondly,  in 
place  of  the  simple  worship  of  the  nomads,  who  probably 
lived  chiefly  upon  milk,  and  to  whom  the  annual  eating  of  the 
Passover  lamb  was  a  joyous  as  well  as  a  reverent  sacrificial  rite, 
had  succeeded  lavish  offerings  of  animals  slain  by  the  wholesale, 
and  attended  in  some  cases  by  sexual  and  alcoholic  orgies  which 
had  crept  into  the  worship  from  the  Canaanites.  Even  sacrifices 
of  children  seem  to  have  occurred  in  rites  of  deities  that  were 
popularly  confused  with  Yahweh  if  not  officially  identified  with 
him.  The  prophets  sternly  denounce  these  immoral  elaborations 
of  ritual  which  they  insist  Yahweh  hates  and  despises,  15. 

The  perversion  of  the  worship  of  Yahweh  and  the  prevailing 
social  injustice  are  attributed  by  the  prophets  to  the  same 
cause, — infidelity  to  Yahweh's  commands.  The  rich  think  that 
by  their  costly  offerings  they  will  please  Yahweh  and  he  will 
condone  their  offenses.  But  this  is  not  the  case.  Yahweh 
demands  deep  repentance  for  social  wrongs  and  personal  sins, 
and,  for  the  future,  complete  reformation.  "Seek  good  and 
not  evil,  and  so  Yahweh,  God  of  Israel  will  be  with  you  as  you 
say.  .  .  .  Hate  the  evil  and  love  the  good,  and  establish 
justice  in  the  gate.  .  .  .  Let  justice  flow  on  like  a  river, 
and  righteousness  like  a  perennial  stream,"  16.  If  this  is  not 
done,  Amos  warns  that  Yahweh  will  presently  destroy  Israel. 


PROPHETS  BEFORE  EXILE      •    139 

Hosea  puts  a  more  personal  note  into  his  plea.  Israel's 
infidelity  to  Yahweh  is  like  the  infidelity  of  an  erring  wife  to 
her  husband,  and  she  is  reproached  sadly  but  affectionately; 
she  must  speedily  repent  and  return  or  it  will  be  too  late. 
Yahweh,  like  a  husband,  demands  the  exclusive  love  of  Israel. 
Hosea  repudiates  the  use  of  the  golden  bulls  of  Bethel  and 
Dan  in  the  worship  of  Yahweh,  and  begins  the  campaign 
continued  by  subsequent  prophets  against  any  use  of  images  in 
worship.  Micah  similarly  insists  that  righteous  living  rather 
than  sacrifices  is  what  Yahweh  demands,  and  gives  the  famous 
summary  of  the  whole  requirement  of  Yahweh: — <4What  doth 
Yahweh  require  of  thee  but  to  do  justly,  and  to  love  kindness, 
and  to  walk  humbly  with  thy. God?"  17. 

Isaiah,  a  prophet  of  the  southern  kingdom,  thinks  of  the 
temple  of  Jerusalem  as  the  supreme  home  of  Yahweh  where  he 
has  his  throne  and  is  attended  by  seraphim.  To  approach  him 
one  must  be  clean  ethically,  as  well  as  ceremonially.  His  mes- 
sage is  a  demand  for  righteousness:  "Wash  you,  make  you 
clean,  put  away  the  evil  of  your  doings  from  before  my  eyes ; 
cease  to  do  evil,  learn  to  do  well;  seek  justice,  relieve  the 
oppressed,  judge  the  fatherless,  take  up  the  cause  of  the  widow," 
18.  Yahweh  will  forgive  Israel  if  she  repents.  But  Israel  must 
do  righteousness  and  trust  in  him,  and  not  in  foreign  alliances. 
The  worship. of  Yahweh  with  the  golden  bulls  in  the  northern 
kingdom,  and  at  the  country  shrines,  threatened  to  become  dis- 
credited during  Isaiah's  time  by  their  failure  to  protect  the 
land  from  successful  invasion,  by  the  Assyrian  armies.  However, 
the  Assyrian  Sennacherib  was  forced  to  retire  in  defeat  without 
capturing  Jerusalem.  Thus  a  great  victory  was  won  for  the 
now  imageless  worship  of  Yahweh  at  Jerusalem  (for  King 
Hezekiah  had  destroyed  the  golden  serpent  there).  The  convic- 
tion became  strengthened  that  he  dwelt  in  a  peculiar  sense  at  the 
temple  in  Jerusalem  where  alone  sacrifices  should  be  offered. 
This  was  a  movement  in  the  direction  of  monotheism;  for 
location  of  God  in  a  particular  place  where  he  must  be 
worshipped  without  images  of  any  kind  strengthened  the 
tendency  to  think  of  him  as  one,  and  to  think  of  him  in  spiritual 
and  not  sensuous  terms.  (A  sharp  contrast  is  thus  furnished  to 
the  many  shrines  where  different  images  of  Zeus  and  Jupiter 
were  worshipped  with  different  titles,  and  practically  were 
different  gods.) 

In  earlier  times  Yahweh  had  simply  been  the  national  god  of 


140  „   JUDAISM 

Israel.  The  other  nations  each  had  its  own  national  god.  And 
there  were  local  deities  as  well,  as  we  have  seen.  Gradually 
the  worship  of  Yahweh  had  supplanted  that  of  the  Baalim  at 
local  shrines,  and  the  local  shrines  gave  way  to  the  centralized 
worship  at  Jerusalem,  19.  Since  the  time  of  Isaiah  and  Senna- 
cherib it  had  become  a  common  belief  that  the  powerful  Yahweh 
would  never  permit  Jerusalem,  and  certainly  not  its  temple 
where  he  dwelt,  to  be  captured  by  a  foreign  enemy.  But 
Jeremiah  insisted  that  precisely  this  would  occur.  A  potter 
does  not  hesitate  to  destroy  an  unworthy  vessel  and  begin  his 
work  over  again.  So  Yahweh  will  utterly  destroy  Israel  for 
her  wrong  doing.  The  outcome  proved  that  Jeremiah  was 
right.  Did  this  mean  that  Marduk,  the  god  of  Babylon,  was 
mightier  than  Yahweh,  the  god  of  Israel?  Such  would  have 
been  the  conclusion  of  an  earlier  age.  But,  no,  the  prophets 
ever  since  Amos  had  been  gradually  working  out  a  different 
conception  of  Yahweh.  When  the  historical  outcome  justified 
the  predictions  of  Jeremiah,  the  prophetic  conception  became 
established  for  later  Jewish  thought.  Yahweh  is  independent 
of  time,  place,  and  people ;  he  is  the  one  God  of  the  entire  earth, 
and  there  is  no  other  god. 

To  Jeremiah,  too,  belongs  the  credit  for  introducing  more 
personal  conceptions  into  morality  and  into  the  relations 
between  man  and  God.  Jeremiah  and  his  younger  contemporary 
Ezekiel  repudiate  the  old  doctrine  of  collective  responsibility; 
Yahweh  holds  every  man  personally  responsible  for  his  own 
sins,  20.  Jeremiah  enters  into  close  personal  relationship  with 
Yahweh,  whom  he  constantly  addresses  in  terms  of  vivid  though 
reverent  intimacy.  Jeremiah  taught  the  Jews  the  possibility 
and  efficacy  of  personal  prayer  to  a  loving  and  wrise,  and  abso- 
lutely just  God.  We  have  seen  that  the  Greeks  and  Romans 
with  the  loss  of  the  city  state  sought  in  vain  to  find  a  God  no 
longer  connected  with  a  particular  state,  but  of  the  world,  and 
who  yet  would  be  in  personal  and  intimate  relations  with  the 
individual  worshipper.  Judaism  succeeded  in  attaining  just 
this.  No  longer  connected  with  an  independent  Jewish  state, 
Yahweh  became  the  personal  guardian  of  his  scattered- followers, 
the  loving  personal  King,  and  Father  of  each  one  of  them.  This 
sense  of  personal  intimacy  with  God,  which  thus  began  with 
Jeremiah,  ultimately  found  its  finest  expression  in  many  of 
the  Psalms,  21. 

It  has  been  impossible  to  indicate  all  the  steps  in  the  evolution 


LAW  AND  SYNAGOGUE  141 

of  the  conception  of  Yahweh  effected  by  the  prophets  down  to 
the  exile.  But  we  have  seen  that  they  ultimately  succeeded 
in  giving  the  Jews  the  conception  of  a  personal,  righteous, 
merciful  and  loving  God  free  from  all  the  grosser  features  of 
the  earlier  anthropomorphism.  This  God  is  conceived  as 
spiritual,  and  this  spirituality  is  assured  by  the  prohibition  of 
the  use  of  images  in  his  worship.  There  were  few  myths,  and 
these  few,  though  crude,  far  from  having  markedly  antimoral 
features  were  on  a  high  moral  plane,  and  have  always  been 
capable  of  use  for  moral  edification  by  the  Jewish  and  Christian 
ministry.  While  political  incidents  facilitated  the  evolution  of 
Jewish  monotheism,  they,  alone  were  not  responsible  for  it.  The 
spiritual  genius  of  the  Jewish  nation,  as  expressed  by  these 
lofty  minded, — and,  if  you  please,  inspired — prophets  alone 
made  possible  such  an  interpretation  of  the  significance  of 
Yahweh.  Other  contemporary  Semitic  nations  believed  in 
national  war  gods  and  met  with  political  disasters,  but  none  of 
them  had  the  spiritual  genius  to  give  the  world  an  effective 
conception  of  God  as  independent  of  place  and  nation,  upholder 
of  social  justice  and  individual  morality,  and  accessible  in  terms 
of  personal  intimacy  to  individual  worshippers. 

IV — The  Law  and  the  Synagogue 

Pure  and  lofty  as  was  the  conception  of  God  attained  in 
the  finest  passages  of  the  later  prophets  and  the  Psalms,  this 
could  have  had  no  abiding  influence  upon  the  nation  as  a  whole 
or  effected  social  reforms,  much  less  contributed  to  the  religion 
of  future  ages,  had  it  not  become  embodied  in  institutions, — 
the  temple,  the  synagogue  and  the  family.  A  religion  cannot 
persist  as  merely  the  private  experience  of  detached  individuals. 
Few  such  persons  can  preserve  their  spiritual  strength  without 
association  with  fellow  believers  in  common  worship.  And  in 
no  case  can  a  religion  be  preserved  and  propagated  apart 
from  institutions.  The  pre-exilic  prophets  did  not  realize  this. 
They  saw  the  evils  in  the  ritual  of  Yahweh  in  their  times,  and 
wished  to  do  away  with  organized  religious  institutions 
altogether,  a  mistake  that  has  often  since  been  made  by  over 
hasty  reformers. 

In  this  respect  the  priests  were  wiser.  Even  before  the  exile 
they  seem  to  have  begun  to  purify  the  ritual,  purging  it  of 
objectionable  features,  and  to  codify  the  law,  introducing 
provisions  to  guard  against  the  social  injustices  denounced  by 


142  JUDAISM 

the  prophets.  Among  the  group  of  exiles  living  in  Babylon, 
who  needed  some  means  of  preserving  their  religious  and  racial 
identity  in  a  foreign  land,  was  the  priestly  prophet  Ezeldel. 
Though  denouncing  social  injustice  as  severely  as  the  earlier 
prophets,  and  insisting  on  personal  moral  responsibility  like 
Jeremiah,  Ezeldel  realized  the  supreme  importance  for  Israel 
of  the  faithful  observance  of  a  purified  ritual.  He  was  the 
first  to  perceive  that  the  priest  must  also  be  a  faithful  pastor, 
a  watchman  of  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  people,  22.  Through 
the  worship  of  Yahweh,  the  dry  bones  of  a  dead  Israel  will  again 
come  to  life.  Stony  hearts  shall  become  hearts  of  flesh — a  sort 
of  conversion — and  Yahweh  will  put  his  own  spirit  within 
them,  23. 

After  the  return  from  exile,  the  evolution  of  the  purified 
religion  proceeded  rapidly.  The  central  figure  in  this  develop- 
ment was  undoubtedly  Ezra,  probably  the  greatest  religious 
statesman  in  the  entire  history  of  Israel,  with  the  exception  of 
Moses.  What  features  of  the  work  of  reconstruction  were 
directly  accomplished  by  Ezra  himself,  and  how  much  by  the 
later  participants  in  the  movement,  is  uncertain.  In  time  the 
various  codes  of  the  law  became  formulated  in  writing  and  were 
read  to  the  people.  Of  these  codes,  the  Deuteronomic,  with  its 
humanitarian  legislation  and  its  strong  ethical  emphasis,  may 
have  come  down  from  the  last  century  before  the  exile;  while 
the  more  ritualistic  Levitical  and  Holiness  codes  are  the 
fruition  of  the  tendencies  which  Ezekiel  did  much  to  bring  into 
prominence.  Presently  all  the  codes  were  combined  in  the 
Law  (the  Tor  oh  or  Pentateuch,  the  first  five  books  of  our 
Bible).  As  it  was  necessary  for  the  people  to  know  the  Law, 
it  became  the  duty  of  the  father  to  teach  the  simpler  and  more 
fundamental  principles,  like  the  Shema  (24)  and  the  Deca- 
logue (25)  to  the  children  in  the  home.  Schools  arose  where 
boys  were  sent  to  learn  to  read  the  Law  and  the  other  sacred 
books.  The  sacrifices  (other  than  the  Passover,  a  family  meal) 
could  only  be  performed  at  Jerusalem  by  the  official  priests. 
Elsewhere  Yahweh  had  to  be  worshipped  by  prayer  and  psalm 
and  by  the  reading  and  study  of  his  Law  and  Prophets.  Thus 
synagogues  arose  in  which  this  simple,  spiritual  worship  was 
performed.  They  were  established  everywhere.  The  ritualistic 
observance  of  the  Sabbath  and  of  the  preparation  of  food  were 
obligatory  upon  Jews  everywhere.  For  those  living  outside 
of  Palestine  whose  number  was  constantly  upon  the  increase, 


MESSIANIC  HOPE  143 

the  ritual  of  the  home  and  synagogue  became  the  essential  part 
of  the  religion. 

Not  all  of  the  Law  was  put  into  writing  in  the  time  of  Ezra 
and  the  generations  immediately  following.  The  oral  tradition 
was  also  regarded  as  inspired  and  authoritative.  Scholars 
devoted  their  lives  to  the  study  of  the  oral  as  well  as  the  written 
Law.  The  observance  and  study  of  the  Law  bound  the  nation 
together.  Their  earnestness  gave  the  Law  an  increasingly 
deep  and  spiritual  interpretation,  which  kept  their  lives  on  a 
higher  plane  than  the  nations  by  whose  lands  Palestine  was 
surrounded,  to  whom  it  was  successively  subject,  and  among 
whom  all  the  Jews  ultimately  were  destined  to  live  after  they 
no  longer  had  a  country  of  their  own.  Those  who  are 
prejudiced  against  the  Law,  and  think  Judaism  necessarily  a 
religion  of  dead  legalism  and  formalism  should  read  what  Jews 
have  written  about  it  in  all  ages  including  our  own.  The  deep 
reverence  they  have  for  it,  and  the  spiritual  uplift  which  it 
to-day  exerts  for  them,  seem  to  be  as  genuine  and  profound 
as  we  find  expressed  in  the  Psalms,  2(J. 

V — The  Messianic  Hope 

The  early  traditions  told  how  Yahweh  had  chosen  Israel 
for  his  people,  delivered  them  out  of  Egyptian  bondage,  and 
won  for  them  the  land  of  Canaan.  Their  ancestors  appeared 
to  have  violated  the  covenant  by  serving  other  gods  and 
committing  social  injustice  and  personal  sins.  Since  the  exile, 
however,  Israel  was  faithful  to  Him  as  the  one  God,  and  obeyed 
the  Law  with  scrupulous  care.  So  the  hope  grew  strong  that 
He  would  ultimately  restore  the  nation  to  the  glory  and  inde- 
pendence which  they  imagined  that  it  had  enjoyed  in  the  time 
of  David  and  Solomon,  or  even  to  something  still  more 
magnificent.  Ezekiel,  living  in  exile,  portrayed  a  future 
commonwealth  in  which  Yahweh  would  dwell,  to  which  Israelites 
in  other  lands  would  be  restored,  and  which  would  be  victorious 
over  hostile  powers.  Haggai  and  Zechariah  hoped  that  Yahweh 
would  cause  these  dreams  to  be  realized  through  Zerubbabel, 
the  governor,  who  was  a  prince  of  the  House  of  David,  27. 
Malachi  expected  that  after  having  first  sent  Elijah  as  his 
messenger,  Yahweh  would  shortly  appear,  punish  the  wicked, 
and  reward  the  faithful. 

The  prophecy  of  a  post-exilic  writer  that  has  been  incor- 
porated into  the  book  of  Jeremiah  (28)  gives  a  complete  outline 


144  JUDAISM 

of  what  by  his  time  was  expected  by  some  to  occur.  Yahweh 
will  restore  the  exiles  to  the  fatherland.  Israel  will  regain  its 
independence,  and  the  other  nations  will  be  filled  with  dismay, 
A  second  David  will  rule  over  the  land.  Yahweh  will  write 
his  Law  in  their  inward  parts,  and  all  of  them  will  know  him 
from  the  least  to  the  greatest;  he  will  forgive  their  sins.  All 
will  be  joy  and  happiness.  A  passage  in  Micah  declares  that 
this  future  ruler  of  Israel  will  be  born  in  Bethlehem,  29. 
Passages  in  the  first  Isaiah,  promising  deliverance  were  later 
thought  to  refer  to  this  future  Prince  of  the  house  of  David 
whom  Yahweh  would  set  upon  the  throne  of  Israel,  and  other 
passages  of  similar  tenor  crept  into  the  book,  30.  The  prophet 
or  prophets  who  contributed  the  second  half  of  the  present 
book  of  Isaiah  are  full  of  the  expectations  that  Yahweh  will 
restore  Israel,  31. 

What  is  the  place  of  Gentile  nations  in  the  divine  plan  of 
Yahweh?  In  pre-exilic  times,  for  such  a  prophet  as  Amos, 
they  had  served  for  little  more  than  instruments  by  which 
Yahweh  punished  Israel.  The  more  narrow-minded  saw  no 
need  of  according  to  Gentiles  a  positive  place  in  the  plans  of 
Yahweh.  This  is  even  the  case  with  Ezekiel.  The  broader 
minded,  however,  realized  that  Gentiles  are  human  beings,  and 
that  Yahweh  has  them  under  his  care.  The  book  of  Ruth  calls 
attention  to  the  fact  that  one  of  the  ancestors  of  David  was 
a  Moabitess.  The  book  of  Jonah  teaches  the  lesson  that  God 
is  willing  to  spare  a  heathen  city  that  repents  of  wrong  doing. 
In  the  later  chapters  of  the  book  of  Isaiah  the  thought  is 
suggested  that  through  Israel  Yahweh  will  bring  salvation  to 
the  Gentiles : — "It  is  too  light  a  thing  that  thou  shouldest  be 
my  servant  to  raise  up  the  tribes  of  Jacob,  and  to  restore  the 
preserved  of  Israel;  I  will  also  give  thee  for  a  light  to  the 
Gentiles,  that  thou  mayest  be  my  deliverance  unto  the  end  of 
the  earth,"  32. 

In  the  first  century  of  the  Christian  era,  and  in  the  century 
immediately  preceding,  Judaism  showed  some  promise  of 
becoming  a  missionary  religion.  Numerous  proselytes  were 
won  to  it  in  Alexandria,  Rome,  and  elsewhere.  Full  conformity 
to  the  Jewish  Law  with  respect  to  circumcision  and  other  rites 
was  exacted  of  Gentile  converts.  After,  however,  Christianity, 
under  the  leadership  of  Paul  adopted  the  policy  of  accepting 
Gentile  converts  without  expecting  them  to  conform  to  the 
onerous  requirements  of  the  Law,  the  older  religion  became 


MESSIANIC  HOPE  145 

unable  to  compete  successfully  with  its  new  rival  in  missionary 
efforts.  Presently  missionary  activity  was  given  up  by  Judaism. 
It  was  concluded  that  in  His  own  good  time  Yahweh  will  cause 
all  nations  of  their  own  accord  to  seek  inclusion  within  the 
Jewish  religion,  accepting  all  its  requirements.  Until  that  time 
shall  come,  it  is  the  duty  of  the  Jewish  people  to  preserve  the 
religion  pure  and  undefiled.  In  so  doing  they  are  of  service  to 
mankind  as  a  sort  of  national  priesthood.  This  is  the  view  held, 
by  liberal  Jews  at  least,  at  the  present  time.  They  admit  that 
there  is  much  that  is  good  in  other  religions  besides  their  own. 
Christians  who  are  true  to  God  as  they  understand  Him  will  be 
recognized  and  rewarded  by  Him. 

In  times  of  prosperity  Messianic  dreams  have  had  little  hold ; 
tvhen  hardship  and  oppression  have  come  to  the  Jew  they  have 
revived.  The  period  when  Antiochus  Epiphanes  persecuted  the 
Jewish  nation  and  endeavored  to  force  them  to  become  apostates 
was  such  a  time  of  extreme  oppression.  It  accordingly 
produced  a  remarkable  apocalyptic  literature  in  which  startling 
visions  are  described,  and  the  date  of  the  deliverance  of  Yahweh 
attended  in  some  cases  by  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  is  calcu- 
lated to  be  very  close  at  hand.  The  book  of  Daniel,  which  is 
of  this  type,  is  thought  to  have  appeared  close  upon  the  first 
successes  of  the  Maccabean  resistance  to  Antiochus  Epiphanes. 
With  the  decline  of  Jewish  prosperity  and  independence  after 
the  Maccabean  revival,  apocalyptic  hopes  again  flamed  up.  A 
large  literature  of  predictions  appeared,  foretelling  numerous 
wars  between  the  nations,  and  the  time  of  the  coming  of  Yahweh 
and  his  Messiah.  These  were  published  under  the  names  of 
Enoch,  Moses,  Baruch,  the  twelve  patriarchs,  and  others.  In 
the  book  of  Enoch  the  Messiah  is  described  as  eternally 
pre-existing  in  the  heavens,  and  destined  to  descend  upon  the 
earth  in  human  form  at  the  time  appointed  by  God.  The  Enoch 
conceptions  of  an  eternal  and  spiritual  Messiah  are  thought 
by  some  to  have  exerted  considerable  influence  upon  early 
Christianity. 

From  what  has  been  said  it  will  be  seen  that  the  Jewish 
conceptions  of  the  coming  of  Yahweh  have  always  been  diverse 
and  inconsistent.  Some  of  them  have  associated  the  appearance 
of  a  Messiah  with  the  coming  of  Yahweh  and  some  have  not. 
The  whole  idea  has  always  been  visionary,  and  fantastic. 
Possibly  it  has  been  of  value  to  hold  faithful  Jews  together  in 
times  of  persecution,  and  so  to  help  to  preserve  the  religion. 


146  JUDAISM 

But  on  the  whole  the  notion  at  least  in  its  apocalyptic  forms, 
seems  chiefly  to  have  been  conducive  to  unwholesome  otherworld- 
liness,  indifference  to  orderly  progress,  bitterness  toward 
Gentiles  and  dreams  of  cruel  vengeance  on  them  for  the  wrongs 
of  Israel ;  and,  at  the  worst,  to  fanatical  revolts  such  as  finally 
brought  Jerusalem  to  its  ruin.  From  Jewish  apocalyptic 
notions  developed  those  of  Christianity,  such  as  we  find 
expressed  in  the  book  of  Revelation,  and  which  deserve  as  little 
commendation. 

VI — Conclusions 

The  contrasts  between  the  successes  and  failures  of  Judaism 
as  compared  with  the  religions  of  Greece  and  Rome  were 
indicated  at  the  beginning  of  the  chapter.  It  remains  necessary 
to  draw  a  few  conclusions  and  make  certain  comparisons 
between  Judaism  and  Christianity. 

The  great  strength  of  Judaism,  as  we  have  seen,  is  on  the 
side  of  Agency ;  its  conception  of  God  is  at  once  sublime  and 
yet  humanly  intimate  and  accessible.  The  religion  has  been 
preserved  through  its  Law  and  other  sacred  scriptures  which 
have  been  taught  in  the  synagogue  and  home  and  have  become 
ingrained  in  the  affections  of  Jewish  children.  The  observance 
of  Sabbath  and  other  ritual,  especially  that  connected  with  the 
preparation  of  food,  has  kept  the  Jews  a  distinct  and  peculiar 
people.  Before  the  rise  of  Christianity  there  was  no  other 
religion  in  the  Roman  empire  that  effectively  conserved 
individual  and  social  values,  and  this  was  one  of  the  reasons 
for  the  decay  of  civilization.  Their  law  and  ritual  preserved 
for  the  Jews  the  ideal  of  a  higher  and  purer  moral  and  social 
life  than  they  otherwise  could  have  attained,  and  enabled  them 
to  seek  and  find  the  support  of  the  God  that  they  needed  in 
order  to  lead  such  a  life.  Judaism  commands  high  admiration 
for  the  purity  and  tenderness  of  its  family  life ;  and  the  worship 
of  the  home,  especially  the  Passover,  conserves  the  values  of 
the  family  more  effectively  than  is  done,  probably,  by  any  other 
religion,  not  excepting  Christianity. 

The  festivals  observed  by  the  Synagogue,  such  as  the  Day 
of  Atonement,  the  New  Year's  Day  and  the  Feast  of  Weeks 
now  including  for  reform  Jews  the  confirmation  service,  still 
retain  their  impressiveness,  and  deepen  and  strengthen  the 
faith  of  the  worshippers ;  while  even  the  most  important  days  of 
the  Christian  year,  like  Easter  and  Christmas,  regrettably 


CONCLUSIONS  147 

have  for  most  Christians  lost  their  spiritual  significance  and 
become  merely  holidays. 

A  point  of  supreme  excellence  in  Judaism  is  its  conception 
of  God — for  the  purposes  of  religion  the  finest  that  the  world 
had  known  up  to  the  time  of  its  development  by  the  prophets. 
This  conception,  with  its  further  development  during  the 
Middle  Ages,  is  today  very  much  like  ordinary  Christian 
theism,  more  so  than  many  Jewish  writers  are  willing  to  admit. 
For  the  Jew,  as  for  the  Christian,  there  is  but  one  God.  He 
is  eternal,  omnipotent,  and  omniscient,  absolutely  just,  right- 
eous, and  holy ;  of  long  compassion  and  tender  mercy.  Jewish 
writers  often  claim  that  their  religion  maintains  the  essential 
unity  of  God  unequivocally,  in  superiority  to  Christianity, 
which  even  in  its  Protestant  forms  tends  to  obscure  the  unity 
of  God  with  its  Trinity  of  three  Persons  (one  of  whom  has  been 
a  human  being)  ;  while,  for  all  adherents  of  Christianity  during 
most  of  the  centuries  of  its  existence  and  for  the  majority  of 
them  still,  the  adoration  of  the  Virgin  Mary  and  the  invocation 
of  the  saints  are  a  veiled  polytheism.  This,  of  course,  is  a 
misunderstanding  of  Christianity.  It  is  an  equal  misunder- 
standing of  Judaism,  however,  for  Christians  to  imagine  since 
Jews  do  not  rely  on  the  mediation  of  Jesus  as  their  Saviour, 
that  God  seems  to  them  remote  and  inaccessible.  On  the 
contrary,  the  pious  Jew  directly  approaches  his  God  with  the 
same  loving  and  reverent  sense  of  intimacy  as  the  earnest 
Christian. 

Jewish  writers  sometimes  claim  that  Judaism  puts  more 
emphasis  on  the  justice  of  God,  while  Christianity  speaks 
mostly  of  His  love,  and  hence  that  Judaism  has  a  more  consis- 
tently ethical  character  and  is  more  effective  in  conserving 
social  and  political  justice.  The  more  constant  study  of  the 
prophets  by  the  Jew  may  have  made  a  difference  here.  Each 
religion  may  bring  out  more  clearly  truths  that  the  other  has 
not  seen  so  well.  However,  the  love  of  God  is  equally  important 
with  His  justice.  Each  religion,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  teaches 
that  God  is  both  just  and  loving,  and  that  He  expects  men  to 
be  both  also.  Whatever  difference  there  may  be  is  simply  in 
emphasis.  While  Judaism,  as  has  been  said,  did  not  originally 
achieve  the  intellectual  analysis  of  ethical  values  which  the 
Greeks  attained,  the  contributions  of  the  Greeks  to  civilization 
have  been  as  accessible  to  Jews  in  medieval  and  modern  times 
as  to  Christians.  With  respect  to  moral  philosophy,  theology, 


148  JUDAISM 

and  the  philosophy  of  religion  as  well  as  all  other  products  of 
modern  thought,  including  of  course  the  natural  sciences, 
neither  religion  possesses  any  advantage  over  the  other. 

There  is,  however,  one  profound  difference  between  the  two 
religions.  Judaism  maintains  its  integrity  through  study  of 
a  Book,  and  conformity  to  ritualistic  observance.  The  Jew 
learns  to  love  the  Law,  and  through  it  he  often  attains  a  close 
and  tender  intimacy  with  God  and  is  thereby  enabled  to  lead 
a  saintly  life.  The  Christian  attaches  his  affections  to  a  human 
being,  whom,  if  orthodox,  he  believes  to  be  very  God  of  very 
God,  and  in  any  event,  whom  he  reveres  as  his  Master,  and 
through  whom  he  learns  to  love  and  know  God.  "The  love  and 
loyalty  of  the  Jew  are  directed  toward  the  Law  of  God,  of  the 
Christian  toward  the  Son  of  God."  Now,  to  the  Gentile  races 
of  the  world  loyalty  to  a  person  is  more  satisfying  and  uplift- 
ing than  loyalty  to  a  ceremonial  law.  The  Messianic  hope  of 
the  Jews  is  impossible  of  fulfillment,  if  it  means  that  the  time 
will  ever  come  when  Christians  will  forsake  Jesus  in  order  to 
become  circumcised  and  subject  in  other  respects  to  Jewish 
ritual.  The  Christian  can  learn  to  be  tolerant,  and  to  recognize 
that  the  Law  is  dear  and  sacred  to  the  Jew,  and  that  through 
conformity  to  it  the  Jew  can  and  often  does  lead  a  beautiful 
and  holy  life.  But  for  him  to  consent  to  conform  to  any  such 
meticulous  ritual  himself  will  forever  be  entirely  out  of  the 
question.  Paul  understood  Gentile  (or  at  least  Aryan) 
psychology  in  this  matter  perfectly,  and  was  correct  in 
realizing  that  no  religion  of  Jewish  origin  could  ever  make 
headway  among  the  Gentiles  of  Europe  that  had  not  become 
emancipated  from  the  Law. 

Jewish  students  have  sometimes  privately  asked  the  author 
if  he  believes  that  the  study  of  comparative  religion  should 
force  them  to  admit  the  superiority  of  Christianity  and  become 
adherents  to  it.  That  is  a  matter  that  the  Jews  must  decide 
for  themselves.  The  religion  of  their  fathers  is  sublime;  it 
has  many  tender  associations  which  they  cannot  lightly  disre- 
gard. It  is  not  easy  for  most  persons  to  change  from  one 
religion  to  another  after  adolescence,  and  to  gain  much  comfort 
from  the  new  religion.  The  religious  habits  and  emotional  set 
that  have  developed  since  childhood,  if  broken,  are  liable  not 
to  be  replaced  by  new  sentiments  that  are  profound  and 
lasting,  33.  So  it  seems  very  doubtful  if  an  individual  Jew  under 


CONCLUSIONS  149 

ordinary  circumstances  will  benefit  morally  and  religiously  by 
adopting  a  different  faith. 

The  question,  however,  is  sometimes  raised  whether  Judaism 
as  a  religion  has  not  now  really  performed  its  mission.  The 
unity  of  God  has  been  generally  accepted.  There  is  little 
danger  that  Christianity  will  ever  again  lapse  into  conditions 
of  moral  degradation,  as  it  did  in  Arabia  before  the  rise  of 
Mohammedanism  and  in  Europe  just  before  the  Reformation. 
It  is  asked  precisely  what  values  Judaism  is  conserving  today 
for  society  in  general  that  would  not  be  conserved  as  well 
without  it.  And,  by  isolating  themselves  from  the  rest  of  the 
world  in  an  exclusive  endogamous  caste,  the  Jewish  people  lose 
many  of  the  contacts  and  cultural  opportunities  that  the  rest 
of  society  enjoys.  They  suffer,  too,  from  misunderstandings 
and  prejudices  that  are  not  easier  to  bear  because  they  are 
acknowledged  by  all  intelligent  Christians  to  be  cruel  and 
unjust. 

However,  on  the  whole,  the  author  rather  hopes  that  the 
Jews  will  remain  true  to  the  faith  of  their  fathers,  liberalizing 
and  modernizing  it  where  necessary,  but  not  so  wholly  abandon- 
ing the  ritualistic  observances  as  to  threaten  their  racial  and 
religious  integrity.  It  is  wholesome  for  Christians  to  realize 
that  social  and  moral  values  can  be  effectively  conserved  by 
another  religion.  Christianity  has  often  tended  to  put  undue 
emphasis  on  intellectual  assent  to  creeds  and  doctrines.  The 
presence  of  a  rival  religion,  which  has  always  been  free  from 
this  fault,  and  which  rightly  centers  religion  on  the  life  and 
conduct  of  the  home  and  religious  community,  will  help  to  keep 
Christianity  from  being  one  sided.  There  may,  after  all,  be 
some  truth  in  the  notion  that  the  Jews  have  a  priestly  mission 
in  the  world,  that  they  keep  before  mankind  ideals  of  true 
religion  that  otherwise  might  be  obscured.  Intelligent  Chris- 
tians respect  the  right  of  Jews  to  decide  this  question  for  them- 
selves ;  they  gladly  welcome  with  the  right  hand  of  fellowship 
any  Jews  who  may  care  to  unite  with  them,  and  they  regard 
with  equal  respect  and  good  will  those  who  choose  to  remain 
faithful  to  the  Law  and  the  Prophets. 

REFERENCES 

*EDWAIU>  WASHBURN  HOPKINS,  History  of  Religions,  Chapter  XX. 
*JAMES  BISSETT  PRATT,  Psychology  of  Religious  Belief,  Chapter  V. 
*J.  DEWEY  AND  J.  H.  TTJFTS^  Ethics,  Chapter  VI. 

*EDWARD  SCRIBXER  AMES,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  Chapter  X. 
*EPHRAIM  LEVINE,  Judaism  (in  the  "People's  Books"). 


150  JUDAISM 

*MoRRi9  JOSEPH,  Judaism  as  Creed  and  Life. 
*C.  G.  MONTEFIORE,  Outlines  of  Liberal  Judaism. 

GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE,  History  of  Religions,  Vol.  II,  Chapters  I-IV. 

L.  T.  HOBHOUSE,  Morals  in  Evolution,  Part  II,  Chapter  IV. 

EMIL  KAUTSCH,  "Religion  of  Israel"  in  Hastings'  Dictionary  of  the 
Bible,  extra  vol. 

R.  H.  CHARLES,  Religious  Development  Between  the  Old  and  New  Tes- 
taments. The  Apocrypha  and  Pseudepigrapha  of  the  Old  Testament 
(with  introduction  and  notes). 

R.  H.  CHARLES,  The  Apocrypha  and  Pseudepigrapha  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment   (with    introduction    and    notes). 

HEKRY    PRESERVED    SMITH,    The    Religion    of   Israel. 

KARL  BUDDE,  The  Religion  of  Israel  to  the  Exile. 

C.  G.  MONTEFIORE,  Lectures  on  the  Origin  and  Orowth  of  the  Hebrew 
Religion. 

WILLIAM  ROBERTSON  SMITH,  The  Religion  of  the  Semites. 

H.  G.  MITCHELL,  The  Ethics  of  the  Old  Testament. 

KAUFMAN  KOHLER,  Jewish  Theology. 

M.  FRIEDLANDER,  The  Jewish  Religion. 

SOLOMON  SCHECHTER,  Studies  in  Judaism.  Aspects  of  Rabbinical 
Theology. 

ISAAC  HUSIK,  A  History  of  Medieval  Jewish  Theology. 

The  Jewish  Cyclopaedia. 

The  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics  (edited  by  Hastings). 


CHAPTER  XI 
ANCIENT  AND  MEDIEVAL  CHRISTIANITY 

CHRISTIANITY,  following  the  model  of  the  definition  of  religion 
set  forth  in  Chapter  V,  may  be  defined  as  the  endeavor  to 
secure  the  conservation  of  socially  recognized  values  through 
the  agency  of  God  as  revealed  in  Jesus  Christ.  Christians! 
of  different  ages  and  communions  have  held  and  still  hold 
various  doctrines  regarding  the  manner  in  which  God  is 
revealed  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  so  made  available  to  the  believer. 
But  this  general  formula  applies  to  them  all.  The  common 
Christian  conviction  is  that  the  believer  in  some  manner  gains 
divine  power  through  the  personality  and  leadership  of  Christ. 
Variations  in  doctrines  and  creeds  are  to  be  regarded  as  so 
many  different  attempts  to  explain  the  nature  of  the  experience 
on  which  this  conviction  rests;  and  differences  in  ritual  and 
ecclesiastical  organization  are  alternative  methods  of  procedure 
in  obtaining  the  experience  for  oneself,  communicating  it  to 
contemporary  fellow  men,  and  transmitting  it  to  future 
generations. 

I — Jesus  of  Nazareth 

As  in  the  case  of  Buddhism,  nearly  all  the  knowledge  that 
has  come  down  to  us  regarding  the  Founder  of  Christianity 
is  contained  in  literature  written  by  adherents  of  the  religion 
a  considerable  time  after  his  death.  In  both  cases,  however, 
the  personal  characteristics  of  the  Founder  are  so  clearly 
delineated,  and  the  general  spirit  of  his  teachings  stands  forth 
so  sharply,  that  opinion  is  all  but  unanimous  that  he  actually 
lived,  and  that  an  accurate  impression  of  what  he  said  and  did 
is  obtainable  from  the  study  of  the  sacred  accounts,  1.  Con- 
servative scholars  are  disposed  to  accept  practically  every- 
thing in  the  scriptures  regarding  the  Founder  as  authentic; 
while  radicals  not  only  reject  all  incidents  that  cannot  be 
shown  to  be  possible  in  accordance  with  the  natural  sciences 
of  our  own  times,  but  various  other  details  that  do  not  accord 
with  their  own  particular  theories  regarding  the  manner  in 
which  the  religion  originated.  The  radicals,  naturally,  vary 
considerably  among  themselves  in  what  they  accept  as  historic. 

151 


152  ANCIENT  CHRISTIANITY 

It  will  not  be  necessary  to  give  an  outline  of  the  life  of 
Jesus  as  set  forth  by  the  conservatives.  e  To  ascertain  this, 
the  reader  needs  merely  to  consult  the  Gospels  themselves,  or 
a  good  Harmony  in  which  the  four  Gospel  accounts  are 
printed  in  parallel  columns.  The  following  statements,  the 
author  believes,  belong  within  the  minimum  that  most  radicals 
accept ;  they  of  course  are  agreed  to  by  all  conservatives. 

Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  born  within  a  decade  of  the  traditional 
year  of  our  calendars.  He  grew  up  in  Galilee,  the  northern 
province  of  the  Palestine  of  those  times,  probably  in  the  village 
of  Nazareth,  and  he  was  probably  educated  to  the  trade  of  a 
carpenter.  The  discourses  attributed  to  him  reveal  familiarity 
with  the  Jewish  Scriptures,  which  he  doubtless  heard  read  and 
discussed  in  the  local  synagogue  in  the  dialect  of  the  country 
(Aramaic).  He  may  have  learned  to  read  them  in  Hebrew  in 
the  village  school.  His  recorded  utterances  make  little  employ- 
ment of  the  interpretations  of  the  Pharisees  and  other  scholars 
of  the  time.  The  age  in  which  he  lived — to  put  it  mildly — was 
one  in  which  the  Jewish  religion  was  not  at  its  best.  The 
intellectual  classes  (chiefly  scribes  and  Pharisees)  who  knew 
the  profundities  of  rabbinical  interpretation,  were  as  a  class, 
indifferent  to  the  common  people,  and  did  not  do  as  much  as 
they  ought  to  have  done  to  share  their  knowledge  with  them. 
Some  of  the  scholars  were  men  of  deep  piety  and  religious 
insight ;  others  had  become  absorbed  in  the  technicalities  of  the 
Law,  and  seemed  to  the  common  people  (perhaps  justly)  to 
have  lost  sight  of  its  true  spirit.  Getting  little  religious  instruc- 
tion from  the  intellectual  leaders,  the  masses  were  unduly 
influenced  by  apocalyptic  literature,  which  had  wide  circulation 
among  them.  Impatient  of  the  oppression  of  their  Jewish  and 
Roman  rulers,  they  ardently  awaited  the  coming  of  Yahweh 
and  the  Messiah.  Visionaries,  who  imagined  themselves 
divinely  sent  prophets  or  Messiahs,  kept  appearing  and  causing 
popular  uprisings  which  gave  the  government  a  good  deal  of 
trouble. 

Not  far  from  the  year  30  A.  D.,  an  ascetic  from  the  desert, 
known  to  history  as  John  the  Baptist,  came  preaching  through 
the  countryside.  He  denounced  the  evils  of  the  times  with 
vigor  but  justice,  exhorting  the  people  to  repent  from  their 
sins  and  to  be  baptized  by  him  in  preparation  for  the  coming 
of  Yahweh,  which  he  announced  to  be  at  hand.  Among  those 


JESUS  153 

who  came  to  listen  to  him  and  be  baptized  was  Jesus,  then  a 
young  man  possibly  thirty  years  of  age. 

Subsequent  to  his  baptism  Jesus  went  through  a  profound 
spiritual  experience.  He  retired  into  the  desert  to  fast  and  to 
pray.  He  returned  with  the  consciousness  of  a  mission.  He 
went  from  place  to  place,  exhorting  people  to  repent,  and  to 
prepare  themselves  for  a  new  religious  era.  He  interpreted 
to  them  the  significance  of  religious  truths  with  depth  of  feeling, 
clarity  of  insight,  and  force  of  conviction,  such  as  they  had 
not  heard  from  the  scribes  in  the  synagogues.  His  magnetic 
personality  made  a  deep  impression.  Many  experienced 
spiritual  awakenings,  at  least  for  the  time;  while  enough  of 
the  significance  of  his  teachings  penetrated  the  minds  of  a  few 
to  induce  them  to  forsake  all  and  follow  him.  Out  of  pity  for 
their  sufferings,  he  healed  many  sick  folk  who  had  faith  in 
him — miraculously,  according  to  conservatives,  by  mental 
suggestion  as  radical  critics  think.  After  a  while  the  novelty 
of  his  preaching  subsided,  and  many  fell  away.  A  few,  however, 
remained  faithful.  To  them  he  explained  his  teachings  more 
fully,  developing  the  import  of  the  parables  which  he  employed 
in  his  public  addresses,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  times.  A 
chosen  band  of  twelve  men  were  associated  more  intimately  with 
him,  and  three  of  them  (Peter,  James  and  John)  were  with 
him  constantly.  Among  these  it  was  understood  in  secrecy 
that  he  was  the  Messiah. 

He  decided  that  it  was  necessary  to  call  attention  to  himself 
and  his  work  by  going  to  Jerusalem  at  the  time  of  the  Passover, 
when  the  city  would  be  thronged  with  pilgrims.  He  rode  into 
the  city  on  an  ass,  in  dramatic  fulfilment  of  an  ancient 
prophecy,  £ ;  an  act,  which  must  have  been  interpreted  by  many 
observers  to  imply  Messianic  claims.  He  addressed  the  crowds 
in  the  streets.  He  went  into  the  temple,  and  drove  out  a  gang 
of  money  changers  and  sellers  of  offerings  who  were  cheating 
the  worshippers  and  profaning  the  sanctity  of  the  place.  He 
denounced  the  Pharisees  vehemently.  All  this  won  for  him 
considerable  notice.  Few  in  the  listening  crowds,  however, 
could  have  gained  any  adequate  idea  of  the  spiritual  greatness 
of  Jesus,  and  the  lofty  character  of  his  teaching.  The  Jewish 
hierarchy  were  irritated  at  his  attacks  upon  them;  they  may 
also  have  been  afraid  that  his  followers  would  create  a  tumult 
in  the  crowded  city  that  would  bring  down  the  wrath  of  the 
Roman  governor.  They  thought  it  imprudent  to  apprehend 


154.  ANCIENT  CHRISTIANITY 

Jesus  publicly,  on  account  of  the  excitement  it  would  cause 
in  the  streets  thronged  with  Passover  visitors.  So  they  bribed 
one  of  his  disciples  (Judas  Iscariot)  to  take  them  to  Jesus  at 
night,  and  possibly,  to  give  them  positive  proof  that  he 
claimed  to  be  the  Messiah.  Jesus  was  accordingly  arrested  at 
night,  and  brought  before  the  Jewish  council  for  a  preliminary 
hearing.  The  council  were  shocked  at  what  in  their  minds 
was  his  blasphemy  in  pretending  to  be  the  Messiah.  They 
delivered  him  over  to  the  Roman  governor,  (Pontius  Pilate), 
on  the  charge  that  he  was  guilty  of  treason  against  the  Roman 
government,  in  that  he  claimed  as  Messiah  to  be  the  rightful 
political  king  of  the  Jews.  On  this  charge  he  was  found  guilty, 
and  put  to  death  by  crucifixion,  3. 

Before  long  the  followers  of  Jesus  had  visions  of  him,  both 
individually  and  collectively.  They  became  firmly  convinced 
that  he  had  risen  from  the  dead,  and  that  he  was  truly  the 
Messiah  and  had  ascended  into  heaven.  He  would  again  return 
to  the  earth  in  human  form.  The  dead  should  then  arise,  he 
would  judge  the  living  and  the  dead,  and  the  present  world 
order  should  come  to  an  end.  Only  those  who  repented  of  their 
sins  and  accepted  Jesus  as  the  Messiah  could  hope  for  salva- 
tion in  this  day  of  judgment.  They  made  an  impressive  public 
demonstration  in  Jerusalem  (Pentecost)  in  which  they  "spoke 
with  tongues"  and  won  numerous  converts. 

II — The  Apostolic  Age 

The  followers  of  Jesus  continued  to  attend  the  worship  of 
the  temple,  like  other  Jews,  ard  to  conform  to  Jewish  ritual. 
In  addition  they  held  private  worship  in  their  homes,  which 
included  prayer  and  the  breaking  of  bread.  Peter  and  the 
other  apostles  were  able  publicly  to  effect  the  cure  of  sick  folk 
and  accomplish  "many  wonders  and  signs"  in  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth.  They  made  addresses  in  public 
places  at  every  opportunity.  Numerous  converts  repented  of 
their  sins,  were  baptized,  and  became  members  of  the  new 
religious  society.  The  Hebrew  scriptures  were  studied  by 
them,  and  found  to  contain  numerous  prophecies  of  the  coming 
of  the  Messiah,  which  were  interpreted  to  be  predictions  of  the 
death  and  resurrection  of  Jesus,  as  well  as  of  events  in  his 
life.  It  is  not  remarkable  that  the  arguments  of  the  apostles 
did  not  convert  the  Jewish  people  as  a  whole.  The  career  of 
Jesus  certainly  had  not  fulfilled  Jewish  expectations  of  the  com- 


APOSTOLIC  AGE  155 

ing  of  the  Messiah.  Jesus  had  not  become  the  king  of  a  restored 
Jewish  nation  ;  he  had  not  brought  universal  peace  to  the  woi id ; 
nor  were  all  nations  flocking  to  Jerusalem  to  worship  at  the 
temple.  As  time  went  on,  some  champions  of  the  new  faith 
sought  to  prove  the  descent  of  Jesus  from  David  through  his 
father  Joseph,  and  produced  two  apparently  conflicting  gene- 
alogies to  prove  this  claim ;  while  others  said  that  he  was 
miraculously  born  of  a  virgin  and  had  no  earthly  father  at 
all,  4.  It  is  true  that  the  Jewish  expectations  of  the  Messiah 
were  by  no  means  consistent  or  coherent  themselves,  5 ;  but  it 
is  not  strange  that  the  interpretations  of  the  Hebrew  prophets 
in  the  interests  of  the  new  faith  were  not  convincing  to  most  of 
the  orthodox  Jewish  scholars  of  the  times. 

However,  enough  Jews  were  won  at  Jerusalem  to  constitute 
a  community  of  followers,  filled  with  fervent  faith  and  mission- 
ary zeal.  The  movement  spread  beyond  the  boundaries  of 
Palestine,  where  it  met  with  more  success.  The  Hellenistic 
Jews  had  not  been  accustomed  to  take  the  Scriptures  so 
literally  as  the  Palestinian  Jews;  allegorical  interpretations 
were  common  among  them.  Nor  did  they  observe  the  details 
of  the  Law  with  Palestinian  minuteness.  So  they  were  prepared 
to  accept  the  claim  that  in  a  profoundly  spiritual  sense  Jesus 
had  more  than  fulfilled  the  Messianic  expectation ;  that  he  had 
put  religion  on  a  higher  and  more  personal  plane.  The  claims 
of  the  followers  of  Jesus  also  appealed  to  many  "devout 
persons,"  i.  e.,  Gentiles  who  attended  the  synagogues,  kept  the 
Sabbath,  and  worshipped  the  God  of  Judaism  without  becoming 
full  Jewish  proselytes  and  submitting  to  circumcision  and  other 
ritualistic  requirements. 

The  orthodox  Jews  regarded  the  movement  of  the  followers 
of  Jesus  with  horror.  To  them  the  claim  that  he  was  the 
Messiah  appeared  to  be  downright  blasphemy  of  the  worst 
kind.  So  they  persecuted  the  blasphemers  as  vigorously  as 
they  could.  Among  the  persecutors  was  one  Saul  of  Tarsus, 
a  city  in  Cilicia  (outside  of  Palestine),  an  orthodox  Jew  who 
had  received  a  thorough  rabbinical  training,  partly  in  his  native 
city  and  partly  under  the  renowned  Pharisee  Gamaliel  at 
Jerusalem.  He  probably  had  become  slightly  acquainted  with 
the  mystery  religions  which  were  strong  in  his  native  city,  as 
well  as  with  Stoicism  and  contemporary  Platonism.  Saul,  while 
assistant  in  the  stoning  of  Stephen,  an  Hellenistic  Jewish  Chris- 
tian, became  impressed  with  the  piety  of  this  martyr  and  of  other 


156  ANCIENT  CHRISTIANITY 

followers  of  Jesus.  While  upon  a  journey  to  Damascus  made 
with  the  intention  of  prosecuting  the  followers  of  Jesus  there, 
he  experienced  a  remarkable  conversion,  including  a  vision  of 
the  risen  Jesus,  6.  He  became  an  adherent  to  the  new  faith, 
changed  his  name  to  Paul,  and  is  known  to  history  as  the 
renowned  Apostle  to  the  Gentiles. 

For  Paul  acceptance  of  Jesus  was  the  consequence  of  his 
personal  experience  (a  "conversion"  in  the  psychological  sense, 
as  will  be  seen  in  Chapter  XV).  He  felt  a  tremendous  reinforce- 
ment of  his  entire  spiritual  nature,  a  peace  of  soul  and 
confidence  that  his  previous  fidelity  to  the  Jewish  Law  had  not 
afforded.  He  felt  himself  aware  of  the  constant  presence  and 
support  of  Jesus,  7.  The  great  desire  of  his  life  was  to  win 
others,  particularly  Gentiles,  to  the  worship  of  Jesus,  so  that 
they,  too,  might  gain  the  blessed  experience  that  meant  so 
much  to  him,  8. 

However  students  of  psychology  may  interpret  the  religious 
experience  that  Paul  enjoyed,  and  that  he  earnestly  sought  to 
share  with  others,  there  can  be  no  question  of  its  efficacy  in 
transforming  his  own  life  as  well  as  the  lives  of  those  whom  he 
succeeded  in  fully  converting.  His  own  experience  convinced 
him  that  conformity  to  Jewish  ritual  was  not  requisite  in  order 
to  gain  these  results,  and  he  realized  that  few  Gentiles  would 
consent  to  become  Jewish  proselytes  in  the  strict  sense,  includ- 
ing submission  to  circumcision  and  all  the  detailed  requirements 
of  the  Law.  So  he  insisted  that  Gentiles  might  accept  the  faith 
of  Jesus  without  becoming  Jews.  Paul  succeeded  after  earnest 
discussion  with  the  more  conservative  disciples  of  Jesus  in 
Jerusalem,  in  establishing  his  contention,  9.  He  engaged  in 
active  missionary  efforts,  and  succeeded  in  establishing  congre- 
gations in  many  of  the  principal  cities  of  the  eastern  half  of 
the  Roman  Empire.  In  his  earlier  epistles  he  seems  to  have 
thought  that  the  end  of  the  age  was  near,  and  that  the  second 
coming  of  Jesus  was  imminent.  Later  on  in  his  career  the  end 
did  not  seem  so  close,  and  he  became  reconciled  to  the  thought 
that  it  might  not  occur  during  his  lifetime,  10. 

Presently  the  Gentile  followers  of  Jesus  outnumbered  the 
Jewish  followers.  The  center  of  gravity  in  the  new  faith 
shifted ;  Christianity  became  a  Gentile  religion.  The  Gentiles, 
to  be  sure,  believed  Jesus  to  be  the  Christ  (the  Messiah),  whose 
coming  had  been  predicted  in  the  Jewish  scriptures.  They 
accordingly  accepted  the  latter  as  authoritative;  but  they 


CATHOLIC  CHURCH  157 

interpreted  them  wholly  in  the  light  of  the  new  faith.  They 
believed  that  the  details  of  the  Jewish  law  were  abrogated  by 
the  coming  of  Jesus.  Jesus,  as  "Lord,"  "Christ"  and 
"Saviour"  was  conceived  by  them  very  differently,  thinking 
and  speaking  in  Greek  and  Latin,  than  by  his  Palestinian 
Jewish  followers  who  thought  of  him  as  the  "Messiah"  in 
Hebrew  and  Aramaic  terms.  What  the  Gentiles  sought  and 
found  in  the  religion  of  Jesus  was  a  spiritual  reinforcement 
through  a  personal  God  who  had  been  a  man  in  historic  times, 
and  through  whom  they  could  gain  consciousness  of  forgive- 
ness of  sins,  intimate  communion  with  God  in  worship,  and 
-assurance  of  a  blessed  immortality.  Accustomed  to  the  mystery 
religions,  they  expected  to  be  initiated  into  this  religion  with 
a  solemn  ceremony,  and  to  engage  in  a  common  worship  that 
would  afford  communion  with  God  by  a  sacred  meal.  Influenced 
by  Stoic  and  other  philosophic  thought,  they  believed  that  all 
men  are  brothers,  children  of  the  one  God,  in  whose  sight  there 
are  no  distinctions  between  Jew  and  Gentile,  Greek  and  Bar- 
barian, male  and  female,  slave  and  freeman.  All  these  points 
were  contained  in  the  teaching  of  Paul,  along  with  more 
technical  theological  and  mystical  interpretations  in  which  they 
were  probably  less. interested. 

Ill — The  Ancient  Catholic  Church 

So  long  as  numerous  witnesses  remained  who  had  known 
Jesus  in  the  flesh,  the  spirit  of  his  teaching  and  the  memory 
of  his  life  and  example  maintained  the  church  on  a  high  level 
of  spirituality.  But,  as  time  elapsed,  and  the  majority  of 
the  adherents  of  the  religion  were  persons  whose  environment 
prior  to  their  conversion  had  been  pagan,  a  serious  problem 
arose.  How  could  the  purity  of  the  new  religion,  and  its 
fidelity  to  the  spirit  and  teachings  of  Jesus  be  preserved? 
Christianity  did  not  interpret  the  Law  with  Jewish  minuteness ; 
in  fact,  it  had  come  to  regard  it  for  the  most  part  as  abrogated. 
So  the  Law  could  not  preserve  the  integrity  of  the  new  religion 
as  it  did  that  of  Judaism.  The  ministry  of  Jesus,  terminated 
by  his  death  after  a  duration  of  not  more  than  three  years, 
had  been  too  short  to  enable  him  to  leave  his  church  organized, 
and  in  possession  of  a  coherent  body  of  doctrine,  as  Buddha 
was  able  to  do  after  a  ministry  of  nearly  half  a  century. 

The  problem  was  met  in  several  ways,  and  the  process  of  its 
solution  was  the  evolution  of  the  ancient  Catholic  Church.  It 


158  ANCIENT  CHRISTIANITY 

is  impossible  to  set  a  date  for  the  transition  from  the  primitive 
Apostolic  Church  to  the  ancient  Catholic  Church.  The  process 
was  very  gradual.  It  had  its  beginnings  before  the  close  of 
the  first  century,  at  latest.  It  was  certainly  complete  by  the 
pontificate  of  Gregory  the  Great  (590-604  A.  D.),  if  not  much 
earlier. 

The  original  twelve  apostles,  with  Peter  as  their  leader, 
naturally  exercised  a  certain  authority  as  the  trusted  interpre- 
ters of  Jesus.  We  know  that  James,  a  younger  brother  (or 
cousin?)  of  Jesus — on  account  of  his  relationship  as  he  was 
not  one  of  the  original  twelve  apostles — also  took  a  prominent 
part  at  a  conference  at  Jerusalem  about  50  A.  D.,  when  ques- 
tions of  moment  were  decided,  11.  The  great  missionaries,  of 
whom  Paul  was  most  renowned,  exercised  apostolic  authority 
over  the  churches  which  they  established,  visiting  them  from 
time  to  time,  and  writing  them  epistles.  In  due  course  each 
congregation  had  as  its  head' an  episkopos  (overseer?  bishop?) 
who  exercised  considerable  influence  and  authority  in  the 
immediate  locality,  and  over  whatever  mission  churches  might 
have  been  established  in  the  surrounding  country.  Associated 
with  the  episkopos  in  the  conduct  of  the  principal  church,  and 
in  subordinate  charge  of  smaller  congregations  were  presbuteroi 
("presbyters"?  elders?  priests?)  ;  and  there  were  also  deacons, 
who  originally  were  perhaps  chiefly  charged  with  the  assistance 
of  the  poor.  Writing  about  the  beginning  of  the  second  century 
Ignatius  exhorted  local  churches  to  obey  their  episkopoi. 
Ultimately  the  episkopoi  (bishops)  in  charge  of  churches  in 
the  larger  cities  who  naturally  would  be  men  of  greater 
eminence,  both  as  scholars  and  administrators,  were  deferred 
to  quite  generally.  After  Christianity  became  a  recognized 
and  tolerated  religion  in  the  reign  of  the  emperor  Constantino 
(306-337)  general  councils  were  from  time  to  time  assembled 
to  decide  upon  disputed  questions  that  concerned  the  entire 
Church.  The  decisions  of  these  councils  were  believed  to  be 
formed  under  divine  guidance ;  and,  in  the  opinion  of  historians 
not  committed  to  Roman  Catholicism,  they  were  the  supreme 
authority.  The  Roman  Catholic  view  is  that  the  decisions  of 
the  councils  had  to  be  accepted  by  the  bishop  of  Rome. 

In  the  west,  Rome  overshadowed  other  cities,  and  its  bishop 
other  prelates.  The  popes  usually  had  the  practical  Roman 
genius  of  getting  at  the  heart  of  a  question,  and  avoiding 
superfluities.  Disputes  all  over  the  Christian  world  were 


CANON  159 

referred  to  them  for  adjudication.  By  the  end  of  the  ancient 
period,  the  bishop  of  Rome  was  widely  regarded  in  the  west  as 
the  legal  head  of  the  Christian  Church,  in  apostolic  succession 
from  St.  Peter. 

How  slowly  or  how  rapidly  this  evolution  of  ecclesiastical 
organization  proceeded  is  in  great  dispute.  Most  conservative 
Protestants  think  that  it  came  very  gradually  and  that  it  was 
a  degeneration  from  the  simpler  and  more  democratic  organiza- 
tion of  the  primitive  church,  which  was  like  that  of  the  Jewish 
synagogue.  Episcopalians,  on  the  other  hand,  usually 
maintain  that  Christ  founded  the  church  with  the  three  essential 
orders  of  bishops,  priests  and  deacons ;  he  meant  that  priestly 
authority  should  descend  upon  those  ordained  by  bishops  whose 
consecration  has  been  at  the  hands  of  other  bishops  in  lineal 
succession  from  the  twelve  apostles.  Roman  Catholic  writers 
include  within  this  doctrine  of  "apostolic  succession"  the  claim 
that  Christ  gave  a  special  commission  to  Peter  as  head  of  the 
church  on  earth,  that  Peter  was  first  bishop  of  Rome,  and  that 
papal  authority  descends  from  him.  The  essential  features  in 
the  organization  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  are  either 
explicitly  or  implicitly  stated  in  the  New  Testament  itself; 
later  development  was  a  mere  unfolding  of  what  was  divinely 
given  from  the  start.  Modern  liberal  scholars  are  usually 
skeptical  as  to  the  existence  of  three  orders  in  the  early  church, 
and  the  few  verses  in  the  New  Testament  on  which  the  claims 
of  the  primacy  of  Peter  are  based  (12)  they  think  to  be  late 
insertions ;  but  they  usually  affirm  that  the  evolution  of  eccles- 
iastical organization  was  a  practical  necessity  of  the  times, 
that  it  proceeded  with  great  rapidity,  and  that  if  it  had  not 
done  so,  Christianity  would  have  become  a  cult  of  mad  vision- 
aries, would  have  absorbed  pagan  practises  by  the  wholesale  and 
would  ultimately  have  lost  everything  of  the  spirit  and  person- 
ality of  Jesus.  The  authority  of  the  bishops  checked  the 
visionaries  (who  fancied  that  they  were  "inspired  by  the  spirit" 
to  preach  and  to  practise  all  sorts  of  vagaries  and  immoralities) 
and  kept  the  worship  and  discipline  of  the  church  restrained 
and  reasonable. 

IV — The  Canon 

Another  way  in  which  the  spirit  of  Jesus  was  preserved  in 
the  church  was  by  the  writings  left  by  apostles  and  those  who 
had  been  associated  with  them.  Paul  and  others  had  written 


160  ANCIENT  CHRISTIANITY 

epistles  from  time  to  time  in  which  they  set  forth  practical 
applications  of  the  spirit  of  Jesus,  as  they  understood  it,  to 
the  problems  of  the  local  congregations.  Most  New  Testament 
critics  now  believe  that  reports  of  the  words  and  deeds  of  Jesus 
were  carefully  collected  about  a  generation  after  his  death,  by 
at  least  two  independent  investigators.  One  of  these  collections 
furnished  the  bulk  of  the  present  Gospel  of  Mark.  The  Gospels 
of  Matthew  and  Luke  consist  chiefly  of  compilations  from  these 
two  collections,  to  which  a  little  material  from  other  sources 
was  added  in  each  case.  These  are  the  three  "synoptic"  gospels. 
The  Fourth  Gospel,  of  later  origin,  is  thought  to  be  less  accu- 
rate in  its  report  of  details,  but  that  it  better  reveals  in  some 
respects  what  he  had  come  to  mean  in  the  lives  of  Christians, 
at  the  end  of  the  first  century  or  the  beginning  of  the  second, 
when  the  spiritual  scope  and  significance  of  the  man  and  his 
mission  had  become  clearer. 

In  due  course,  the  scriptures  that  were  agreed  to  have  come 
down  from  the  age  of  the  apostles,  and  to  have  been  written 
either  by  apostles  (including  such  workers  as  Paul  among  the 
apostles)  or  by  others  associated  with  them,  acquired  great 
authority  for  the  guidance  of  the  church.  The  precise  list  of 
books  now  constituting  our  New  Testament  was  not  officially 
decided  upon  and  established  by  a  council  of  the  whole  Catholic 
Church  until  comparatively  late.  But,  since  at  least  200  A.  D. 
there  has  been  substantial  agreement  on  most  of  them.  When 
comparison  is  made  between  the  books  of  which  the  Church 
constituted  the  New  Testament  and  such  of  the  rejected  books 
that  have  come  down  to  us,  no  one  can  doubt  the  wisdom  of 
the  selection,  at  least  on  the  whole,  13. 

V — The  Sacraments 

The  significance  of  the  teachings  of  Jesus,  and  of  the  life 
that  is  open  to  those  who  follow  him  faithfully  was  impressed 
upon  his  worshippers  by  means  of  the  church  service,  especially 
the  sacraments.  Two  ceremonies  are  specifically  mentioned  in 
the  Gospels — that  of  Baptism  which  Jesus  received  at  the 
beginning  of  his  ministry  from  John  the  Baptist  and  the 
Lord's  Supper  ("Holy  Communion,"  "Eucharist,"  etc.)  which 
the  Gospels  report  that  Jesus  on  the  last  night  of  his  life 
commanded  his  followers  to  observe  in  perpetual  remembrance 
of  him.  From  the  start,  Baptism  was  expected  to  be  attended 
by  a  genuine  repentance  of  sins,  and  a  changed  life.  The 


SACRAMENTS  161 

Lord's  Supper,  too,  was  a  deeply  spiritual  act  of  worship, 
which,  at  least  since  the  time  of  Paul,  must  not  be  participated 
in  thoughtlessly,  14.  Modern  historical  scholars  are  as  little 
agreed  as  theologians  of  former  times  whether  baptism  was 
originally  supposed  by  Christians  to  effect  a  physical  as  well 
as  a  spiritual  transformation  in  its  sincerely  repentant  recip- 
ients, and  whether  the  various  New  Testament  passages  in  which 
the  bread  and  wine  of  the  Supper  are  referred  to  as  the  "body 
and  blood"  of  Christ  were  understood  literally.  Protestants 
have  usually  taken  both  of  these  sacraments  to  be  symbolical 
in  meaning;  they  are  impressive  and  dramatic  ceremonies 
calling  attention  to  the  changes  that  take  place  in  the  mind  of 
a  believer  when  he  becomes  a  Christian,  in  the  case  of  baptism ; 
and,  in  the  Lord's  Supper,  the  increased  spiritual  strength 
which  he  receives  when,  in  company  with  fellow  Christians,  he 
celebrates  this  service  in  commemoration  of  the  great  love  and 
sacrifice  of  Christ  for  men.  Roman  Catholics  no  less  than 
Protestants  insist  on  the  spiritual  experiences  that  attend  the 
celebration  of  these  sacraments,  when  received  sincerely;  but 
they  add  that  these  experiences  are  made  possible  by  reason  of 
the  grace  imparted  through  physical  miracles.  Whatever  the 
belief  of  the  first  Christians  in  the  matter  may  have  been,  the 
evidence  appears  conclusive  that  these  sacraments  were  under- 
stood to  be  miraculous  as  early  as  the  beginning  of  the  second 
century. 

Other  sacraments  were  also  observed  by  the  ancient  Catholic 
church.  Ultimately,  during  the  middle  ages,  the  Latin  Church 
definitely  fixed  the  number  of  sacraments  as  seven.  These 
sacraments  are  outward  signs  believed  to  have  been  instituted, 
either  explicitly  or  implicitly  by  Christ  to  give  grace.  Con- 
firmation is  a  sacrament  in  which  the  bishop  extends  his  hands 
over  those  to  be  received  into  the  fellowship  of  the  Church, 
prays  that  they  may  receive  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  anoints  the 
head  of  each  with  holy  chrism  in  the  form  of  a  cross.  It  had 
gradually,  during  the  ancient  period,  become  the  custom  to  bap- 
tize infants.  The  psychological  justification  of  a  ceremony  to 
impress  upon  parents  and  guardians  their  responsibility  for 
the  religious  upbringing  of  a  child  is  clear;  it  is  no  less  clear 
that,  once  the  initiatory  rite  of  admission  into  the  Christian 
faith  became  celebrated  in  infancy,  another  sacrament  had  to 
become  differentiated  to  mark  the  conscious  assumption  by 


162  ANCIENT  CHRISTIANITY 

adolescent  or  adult  of  the  responsibilities  and  privileges   of 
membership  in  the  Church. 

A  person's  character  was  supposed  to  become  permanently 
transformed  when  he  accepted  for  himself  the  Christian  faith; 
he  was  "born  again"  in  the  words  of  the  conversation  between 
Christ  and  Nicodemus  given  in  the  Fourth  Gospel.  But  prac- 
tical experience  revealed  that  even  professing  Christians 
sometimes  lapsed.  This  particularly  proved  to  be  the  case 
during  the  severe  persecutions ;  men  would  fall  away,  and  later 
on  repent  and  wish  to  be  received  again  by  the  Church.  So  it 
was  believed  that  such  persons  must  demonstrate  their  sincerity 
i  by  avowed  repentance  and  willingness  to  accept  suitable  disci- 
pline. This  is  the  sacrament  of  Penance.  As  finally  developed, 
it  now  involves  that  a  person  honestly  call  to  mind  his  sins, 
have  whole  hearted  contrition  for  them,  including  the  honest 
resolution  to  commit  them  no  more,  confess  them  to  a  priest, 
and  accept  such  punishment  as  he  may  impose.  It  by  no  means 
implies  in  the  minds  of  Catholics  that  confession  to  a  priest  is 
a  substitute  for  confession  to  God ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is 
claimed  to  assure  that  such  repentance  and  confession  to  God 
actually  does  take  place,  which  would  not  at  all  be  certain  if 
these  important  steps  were  left  wholly  to  the  unguided  initiative 
of  the  individual  in  his  private  devotions,  as  is  the  Protestant 
custom. 

Extreme  Unction  is  a  sacrament  in  which  the  priest  anoints 
the  believer  who  is  in  danger  of  death  from  sickness,  and  prays 
for  him.  It  is  believed  to  fortify  his  soul  in  the  crisis,  and  when 
God  wills,  to  strengthen  his  body  also.  Marriage  ties  had 
become  very  loosely  regarded  in  the  ancient  pagan  world ;  the 
Church  emphasized  the  sacredness  of  marriage,  so  strongly 
taught  by  Jesus,  by  teaching  that  the  ceremony  of  Marriage, 
when  performed  by  Christian  rites,  is  a  sacrament.  The  per- 
formance of  miraculous  sacraments  evidently  implies  the 
possession  of  divine  power  and  grace;  so  Holy  Orders,  the 
ceremony  by  which  the  clergy  are  ordained,  is  a  sacrament. 

Various  other  "holy  usages"  became  general  practices  in 
the  ancient  Church.  These  have  since  become  designated  by 
the  Roman  Church  as  "sacramentals,"  and  are  regarded  as 
acts  or  objects  set  apart  or  blessed  by  the  Church  "to  excite 
good  thoughts  and  to  increase  devotion,  and  through  these 
movements  of  the  heart  to  remit  venial  sin."  Sacramentals 
include  the  sign  of  the  cross,  holy  water,  blessed  candles,  ashes, 


CREEDS  163 

palms,  crucifixes,  images  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  of  the  saints, 
rosaries,  and  scapulars.  It  is  clear  to  the  historian  that  most 
of  the  sacramentals  were  adopted  under  the  influence  of  the 
pagan  practices  in  which  Christians  had  engaged  before  they 
became  converted ;  this  does  not,  however,  diminish  their  help- 
fulness in  worship  when  adopted  by  the  Church  and  given 
a  Christian  significance. 

Christians  of  all  ages  have  requested  fellow  Christians, 
especially  those  whom  they  have  esteemed  for  their  piety,  to 
pray  for  them.  In  a  world  where  prayers  to  the  dead  were 
a  common  practice  it  is  not  strange  that  ancient  Christians 
asked  the  venerated  dead  to  pray  for  them;  and  in  regions 
where  the  worship  of  a  divine  Mother  and  her  Son  had  been 
the  practice  from  time  immemorial,  it  was  natural  that  the 
prayers  of  the  Mother  of  Jesus  should  have  been  requested 
of  her  after  her  death.  Prayers  were  properly  addressed  to 
God  only  (the  three  persons  of  the  Trinity),  and  to  Him  alone 
were  altars  and  churches  erected ;  although  the  mediation  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin  and  the  saints  was  asked  for,  and  altars  and 
chapels  erected  in  their  honor.  Objects  associated  with  them 
during  their  lifetime  are  always  precious  to  people,  who  have 
lost  through  death  those  whom  they  have  loved  and  revered. 
The  respect  paid  to  relics  of  saints  was  perfectly  natural  and 
inevitable.  In  the  orthodox  Church  of  ancient  times  the  more 
intelligent,  at  least,  did  not  confuse  the  respect  paid  to  relics 
and  the  adoration  of  Virgin  and  saints  with  the  worship  of 
God.  The  influence  of  paganism  strengthened  these  practices 
of  course;  but  Jewish  and  Protestant  critics  are  wrong  in 
accusing  either  ancient  or  modern  Catholics,  when  intelligent 
and  orthodox,  of  tendencies  in  the  direction  of  polytheism.  Had 
ancient  Catholics  been  addicted  to  such  tendencies  they  would 
not  have  accepted  martyrdom,  as  so  many  did,  rather  than 
do  reverence  to  the  statues  of  the  emperors  and  the  official 
deities  believed  by  pagans  to  conserve  the  values  of  the  state. 

VI — Creeds 

The  faith  of  Jesus  spread  in  a  world  by  no  means  devoid  of 
philosophical  and  theological  ideas.  It  was  inevitable  that 
Gentile  converts  should  interpret  their  new  religion  in  the  light 
of  these  conceptions.  In  fact,  the  Christian  experience  needed 
such  interpretation  in  order  to  make  it  more  intelligible,  and 


164  ANCIENT  CHRISTIANITY 

to  harmonize  it  with  the  rest  of  human  knowledge.  Through 
Jesus  men  everywhere  experienced  a  closer  contact  with  God ; 
their  ideals  became  purer,  and  they  received  strength  to  be  true 
to  them.  The  fears  and  superstitions  of  pagan  religions  were 
escaped,  not  by  skepticism,  but  by  divine  support  and  assurance 
of  a  blessed  immortality.  How  should  one  understand  these 
experiences  and  this  assurance?  So  the  thinkers  of  the  Church 
worked  out  theories  of  the  nature  of  God  of  how  God  became 
incarnate  in  the  man  Jesus  (the  incarnation)  ;  and  how  through 
his  life  and  death  Jesus  has  made  it  possible  for  sinful  men  to 
become  acceptable  to  God  (the  atonement)  ;  how  God  the 
Father  is  related  to  His  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  and  both  to  the 
Holy  Ghost,  who  is  present  in  the  lives  of  believers  (the 
Trinity).  Not  all  of  the  theories  first  advanced  upon  these 
subjects  permanently  proved  satisfactory.  Many  of  them 
contained  pagan  conceptions  fundamentally  in  contradiction 
with  the  spirit  of  Christianity.  This  is  not  surprising  in  view 
of  the  rapidity  with  which  Christianity  spread,  and  the  hosts 
of  Gentile  converts  who  had  been  educated  in  environments 
alien  to  Christian  ideals,  and  in  view  of  the  fact  that  there 
was  little  philosophy  in  the  Judaism  from  which  Christianity 
had  sprung  that  could  be  drawn  upon  to  meet  these  problems. 
So,  out  of  all  the  confused  philosophies  that  were  first  advanced, 
the  Fathers  of  the  Church  gradually  developed  systems  of 
doctrine  that  were  suited  to  the  needs  of  those  times.  Space 
does  not  permit  an  outline  of  these  doctrines,  nor  of  the 
heresies  against  which  they  had  to  contend.  A  few  of  the 
more  important  Fathers  were  Clement  of  Rome  (f about  97), 
Ignatius  (f about  117),  Justin  Martyr  (1*165),  Irenaeus  of 
Lyons  (f200),  Tertullian  (f220),  Cyprian  (f258),  Clement  of 
Alexandria  (f215),  Origen  (fabout  251),  Athanasius  (f373), 
Basil  (1*379),  Gregory  of  Nyssa  (1*394),  Gregory  of  Nazianzus 
(f389),  Ambrose  (f397),  Jerome  (f420),  and  Augustine  of 
Hippo  (f430). 

From  the  second  century  on,  short  statements  of  faith  were 
repeated  by  adults-  receiving  baptism  and  confirmation.  From 
these  developed  the  Apostles'  Creed,  in  the  form  we  know  it. 
When  Christianity  became  a  recognized  religion-  in  the  Roman 
empire,  it  was  found  necessary,  in  the  interests  of  order  and 
harmony,  to  summon  councils  to  settle  various  disputed  doc- 
trines, and  to  set  forth  their  conclusions  in  creeds.  As  the 
outcome  of  such  deliberations  on  the  part  of  councils  the  Nicene 


FUNCTION  165 

(fourth  century)   and  Athanasian   (sixth  century)   creeds  are 
the  best  known  and  most  important. 

VII — The  Function  of  the  Ancient  Catholic  Church 
The  development  of  the  Ancient  Catholic  Church  from  the 
primitive  church  was  inevitable.  In  the  condition  of  the  times, 
the  spirit  of  Jesus  could  not  otherwise  have  remained  effective. 
There  had  to  be  bishops  to  maintain  order,  check  extrava- 
gances and  immorality,  and  to  administer  the  churches, 
together  with  Christian  schools  and  charitable  institutions, 
and  to  interpret  the  meaning  of  Christianity  in  doubtful  cases. 
Questions  of  moment  that  concerned  the  whole  church  necessi- 
tated councils.  The  rulers  of  the  church  had  to  have  a 
generally  accepted  Bible  to  guide  them ;  and  they  had  to  assume 
the  responsibility  of  interpreting  it  to  laymen;  for  in  the  case 
of  newly  converted  pagans  it  was  impossible  that  scripture 
should  be  of  private  interpretation.  The  fundamentals  of  the 
Christian  faith,  as  it  was  understood  in  those  times,  had  to 
be  formulated  in  creeds,  worked  out  by  experts,  and  adopted 
by  regular  authority.  And  there  had  to  be  sacraments  through 
which  the  different  aspects  of  the  Christian  life  might  become 
vivid  and  real  to  the  worshippers,  so  that  they  might  gain 
consciousness  of  the  spiritual  presence  of  Jesus  in  their  own 
lives.  Without  the  institutions  of  the  Catholic  church,  the 
ancient  Christian  converts  would  have  degraded  Christianity 
into  a  polytheism  no  better  than  the  paganism  that  it 
succeeded.  Visionaries  would  have  led  Christian  worshippers 
into  all  kinds  of  fanatical  and  even  immoral  orgies,  as  indeed 
they  sometimes  attempted  to  do.  The  ancient  Catholic  Church 
conserved  the  message  of  Jesus  and  made  it  effective  in  the 
lives  of  mankind. 

The  work  of  the  ancient  church  has  been  attacked  on  two 
sides.  On  the  one  hand  it  has  been  urged  that  since  many  of 
its  beliefs  and  practices  came  from  the  outside  world,  and  were 
neither  of  Jewish  nor  apostolic  origin,  they  cannot  be  true. 
Cardinal  Newman  has  eloquently  replied  to  this  objection  from  a 
modern  Roman  Catholic  standpoint:  the  Church  was  divinely 
inspired  and  directed  in  assimilating  the  rites  and  doctrines 
that  she  needed.  "So  far  then  from  her  creed  being  of  doubtful 
credit  because  it  resembles  foreign  theologies,  we  even  hold  that 
one  special  way  in  which  Providence  has  imparted  divine  knowl- 
edge to  us  has  been  by  enabling  her  to  draw  and  collect  it 
together  out  of  the  world,  and  in  this  sense,  as  in  others,  to 


166  ANCIENT  CHRISTIANITY 

'suck  the  milk  of  the  Gentiles  and  to  suck  the  breast  of 
kings,'  "  15.  The  other  line  of  attack  has  been  to  point  out  the 
ever  lower  spiritual  levels  to  which  Christianity  descended  from 
the  beginning  of  the  second  century  on.  There  were  endless 
quarrels  and  squabbles  within  the  church ;  increasing  numbers 
sought  salvation  not  by  leading  a  useful  life  in  the  world,  but 
by  withdrawing  as  hermits  or  monks  into  the  desert;  and,  no 
sooner  did  Christians  gain  control  of  the  imperial  government 
than  they  began  to  persecute  the  pagans  and  massacre  them 
with  greater  fury  than  had  ever  been  employed  upon  Christians. 
It  must  be  confessed  that  the  later  history  of  the  ancient 
Christian  church  is  sad  and  disappointing  when  contrasted  with 
its  beginning  in  the  time  of  Jesus  and  his  apostles.  It  can  be 
pointed  out,  however,  that  no  movement  has  ever  become  world 
wide  without  losing  much  of  the  fervor  and  pure  vision  of  its 
originators.  The  marvel  is,  not  that  the  Church  lost  so  much 
of  the  spirit  of  Jesus,  but  rather  that  it  retained  any  of  it  at 
all.  As  an  institution  the  ancient  Church  ultimately  brought 
the  gospel  to  everyone;  through  its  discipline  it  preserved  its 
purity  as  much  as  was  possible;  without  its  bishops,  sacra- 
ments, and  creeds,  there  would  have  been  no  gospel  left  at  all. 
The  Gospels  themselves  and  their  preservation  in  the  canon 
together  with  the  rest  of  the  New  Testament,  we  owe  to  the 
initiative  of  the  ancient  Church. 

The  reader  should  observe  that  we  have  not  been  considering 
how  far  the  twentieth  century  should  accept  without  modifica- 
tion the  ancient  ecclesiastical  form  of  Christianity,  with  its 
bishops,  councils  and  popes,  with  its  infallible  Bible,  with  its 
numerous  sacraments  that  to  the  modern  mind  are  not  wholly 
free  from  magical  notions,  and  with  its  subtle  creeds 
expressed  in  the  language  of  a  period  in  the  history  of  science 
and  philosophy  that  has  long  since  been  superseded.  The  only- 
conclusion  on  which  the  writer  at  this  point  wishes  to  insist, 
is  that  for  the  ancient  world,  the  ancient  Catholic  Church  con- 
served the  fundamental  moral  values  more  effectively  than  any 
pagan  philosophy  or  mystery  religion  was  able  to  do,  or  than 
the  primitive  Apostolic  Church  could  have  done  if  it  had 
persisted  in  an  unaltered  form  after  the  first  century,  refusing 
to  adapt  itself  to  the  conditions  of  its  environment. 

VIII — The  Medieval  Latin  Church 
When  the  Roman  empire  fell  in  the  west,  the  Church,  alone 


LATIN  CHURCH  167 

of  ancient  institutions  to  endure,  became  stronger  than  ever. 
This  is  a  striking  instance  of  the  plasticity  of  Christianity, 
and  its  adaptability  to  changed  conditions.  St.  Augustine  of 
Hippo  (f430)  foresaw  the  impending  doom  of  the  empire,  and 
worked  out  the  philosophical  basis  for  the  Latin  church  of  the 
middle  ages.  St.  Gregory  the  Great  (f604)  was  the  most 
brilliant  of  the  Christian  statesmen  who  laid  the  foundations 
of  the  medieval  Church. 

The  theology  of  St.  Augustine,  like  that  of  St.  Paul,  owed 
much  to  his  own  personal  Christian  experience.  A  pagan  in 
youth,  and  a  believer  in  the  semi-pagan  semi-Christian 
Manichaean  heresy  in  his  young  manhood,  he  experienced  in 
386  a  remarkable  conversion  of  the  "sense  of  sin"  type 
(described  in  Chapter  XV),  as  a  result  of  the  preaching  of  St. 
Ambrose.  He  won  as  a  consequence  a  complete  victory  over 
the  moral  temptations  that  had  previously  beset  him,  and 
gained  great  inward  strength  and  peace  of  mind.  Since  his 
own  conversion  and  subsequent  spiritual  happiness  were  the 
consequence  of  Catholic  preaching  and  the  acceptance  of  the 
sacraments,  St.  Augustine  believed  implicitly  in  the  authority 
of  the  Catholic  Church,  that  salvation  can  be  gained  only 
through  her  sacraments,  and  that  earthly  rulers  should  be 
subject  to  her.  The  empire,  as  he  saw  after  Alaric  and  his 
Goths  captured  the  city  of  Rome  in  410,  must  soon  pass  away. 
Its  mission,  however,  had  been  accomplished.  By  subduing 
the  nations  and  bringing  them  under  a  common  rule,  and  in 
other  ways,  it  had  made  possible  the  spread  and  triumph  of 
the  Christian  faith.  It  must  now  give  way  to  the  Church, — 
the  City  of  God — which  henceforth  must  more  and  more  rule 
the  world.  The  Stoics  had  sought  to  ground  religion  in  a 
world  order  which  they  conceived  as  the  city  of  God ;  it  was 
the  achievement  of  Augustine  to  find  this  conception  embodied 
in  a  living  institution, — the  Holy  Catholic  Church. 

There  were  two  sides  to  Augustine's  philosophy  of  religion. 
His  faith  had  grown  out  of  his  own  inner  experience;  on  the 
inner  life  of  the  indivdiual  he  accordingly  bases  proofs  of  the 
existence  of  God,  and  conceives  of  the  relation  between  God 
and  the  individual  as  intimate  and  personal,  16.  On  the  other 
hand  he  finds  the  Christian  experience  incorporated  in  the 
Church,  and  made  available  to  the  individual  only  through  her 
instrumentality.  The  second  side  of  St.  Augustine  was  the 
more  immediately  influential;  it  furnished  firm  grounds  for 


168  MEDIEVAL  CHRISTIANITY 

churchly  authority,  and  made  vital  and  clear  for  western  minds 
the  subtle  doctrines  of  the  Church,  such  as  the  Trinity,  the 
incarnation,  and  the  freedom  of  the  will.  The  significance  of 
St.  Augustine's  emphasis  on  the  inner  life  of  the  individual 
was  scarcely  appreciated  until  over  a  thousand  years  later, 
when  it  had  a  great  influence  on  the  Protestant  reformers,  as 
well  as  on  Descartes  (fl650)  who  initiated  the  first  great 
secular  philosophical  movement  in  modern  times  with  a 
philosophy  based  on  the  Augustinian  doctrine  of  the  certainty 
and  immediacy  of  self-consciousness,  17. 

Through  the  statesmanship  of  a  number  of  able  bishops,  the 
see  of  Rome  had  gradually  won,  and,  on  the  whole  wisely 
administered  its  ecclesiastical  supremacy  in  the  West.  By  the 
end  of  the  pontificate  of  Gregory  the  Great  (604)  this  evolu- 
tion had  become  in  large  measure  completed.  The  primacy  of 
the  pope  of  Rome  had  become  largely  accepted  in  the  West; 
though  not  recognized  in  the  East,  the  latter  was  destined  to 
go  its  own  way  with  slight  connection  with  the  West,  although 
the  final  separation  between  the  Latin  and  Greek  churches  is 
usually  not  dated  until  four  centuries  later.  The  missions  to 
the  barbarians  thrived ;  important  races  like  the  Anglo- 
Saxons  and  the  Lombards  had  been  won  for  the  Catholic 
Church,  others  would  ultimately  enter  her  fold.  The  doctrine 
of  Purgatory  (an  intermediate  state  in  which  those  who  are 
to  be  ultimately  saved  are  purged  of  their  sins  and  made  ready 
for  Heaven,  a  process  which  can  be  hastened  by  the  sacrifices 
and  prayers  of  the  living)  had  become  accepted.  In  doctrine, 
ritual,  and  organization  the  foundations  of  the  Medieval  Latin 
Church  had  been  laid. 

The  problem  of  the  Latin  Church  in  the  Middle  Ages  can  be 
simply  stated.  The  western  world  had  been  overrun  by 
ignorant  barbarians  whose  primitve  nature  religions  readily 
gave  way  to  the  more  impressive  rites,  higher  moral  ideals  and 
superior  culture  of  the  Catholic  Church.  When  all  other 
institutions  fell,  the  Church  survived,  thanks  to  the  philosoph- 
ical interpretation  of  St.  Augustine  and  the  constructive  work 
of  the  popes  and  other  Christian  statesmen,  and,  above  all,  to 
the  inherent  excellence  of  her  spiritual  ideals.  She  was  ready 
to  assist  the  barbarians  to  conserve  values,  and  to  appreciate 
values  more  fully. 

What  the  untamed  barbarians  needed  most  of  all  from  a 
religion  was  discipline.  This  the  Church  afforded,  through  her 


LATIN  CHURCH  169 

sacraments,  especially  penance  and  the  confessional.  The 
sacraments  and  liturgy  were  further  defined.  Some  discipline 
was  even  maintained  over  kings  and  emperors,  who  were  not 
allowed  to  forget  that  they  had  consciences.  The  pacificism  of 
early  Christianity  was  obviously  impossible  for  these  warlike 
men  who  were  still  half  savages.  So  the  Church  did  what  she 
could  to  mitigate  the  evils  of  warfare.  During  a  portion  of 
the  year,  at  least,  men  should  obey  the  "Truce  of  God"  and 
refrain  from  fighting.  The  warrior  was  enthused  with  the 
ideals  of  Chivalry ;  his  investiture  as  a  knight  became  a 
solemn  religious  ceremony  in  which  he  vowed  to  defend  women, 
widows,  orphans,  clergy,  and  pilgrims,  and  to  combat  all  forms 
of  oppression  and  injustice.  A  finer  life  than  one  given  to  the 
shedding  of  blood  was  to  be  found  in  the  complete  devotion  of 
one's  self  to  Christ  as  a  monk  or  nun.  Within  the  shelter  of 
cloister  and  cathedral  there  was  opportunity  for  prayer, 
pious  acts,  and  cultivation  of  learning.  Monks  copied  and 
preserved  ancient  manuscripts,  so  that  classical  learning  was 
not  lost  forever.  They  preached  to  the  people,  gave  them 
spiritual  counsel,  and  heard  their  confessions.  They  main- 
tained hospitals  and  orphanages.  In  connection  with  abbeys 
and  churches  there  were  schools.  When  religion  declined, 
new  orders  arose  and  vitalized  it,  of  which  that  initiated  by 
St.  Dominic  (fl221)  was  most  noteworthy  for  teaching  and 
scholarship,  while  that  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  (|1226)  was 
famous  for  simple  piety  and  work  among  the  poor. 

As  new  learning  came  in  from  the  East,  or  was  revived  by 
the  study  of  manuscripts  that  had  been  preserved  in  the  con- 
vents, it  was  interpreted  in  the  light  of  the  Christian  religion. 
Theological  questions  were  debated  at  length,  and  the  doctrines 
of  Christianity  were  interpreted,  and  supported  by  philosophi- 
cal arguments.  This  was  on  the  whole  done  reverently.  For  St. 
Anselm  (f  1109)  the  province  of  theology  was  to  enable  one  to 
understand  what  one  believed,  and  he  set  forth  arguments  for 
the  existence  of  God,  and  the  incarnation  and  atonement  of 
Christ.  After  Abelard  (f  1142)  (to  whom  education  owes  much 
for  the  great  impetus  which  he  gave  to  university  studies) 
had  marshalled  the  Fathers  in  parallel  columns  and  indicated 
apparent  contradictions  in  them,  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  (fl274) 
showed  how,  by  honestly  facing  and  reconciling  such  seeming 
inconsistencies,  it  was  possible  to  develop  coherence  and 
system,  and  with  them,  profounder  understanding.  In  his 


170  MEDIEVAL  CHRISTIANITY 

Summa  he  worked  out  the  principles  of  Christian  philosophy, 
and  succeeded  in  giving  in  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  his 
age,  a  systematic  interpretation  of  the  world  as  a  whole,  and 
the  place  of  man  and  human  institutions  in  it.  This  philosophy, 
which  still  furnishes  the  basis  for  the  brilliant  Neo-Scholastic- 
ism  of  our  own  time,  did  not  long  remain  a  technical  abstrac- 
tion. Dante  (f!321)  gave  it  warmth  and  vitality  as  well  as 
aesthetic  expression  in  his  Divine  Comedy.  Mystics  had  per- 
sonal experiences  of  union  with  God,  and  inspired  men  to  live 
close  to  Him.  Eckhart  (f!327),  Tauler  (fl361),  Suso 
(f  1366)  and  John  of  Ruysbroeck  (f  1381)  are  among  the  most 
important  besides  Thomas  a  Kempis  (fl471)  or  whoever  was 
the  author  of  the  Imitation  of  Christ — a  favorite  manual  of 
devotion  among  both  Roman  Catholic  and  Protestants  down 
to  the  present  time,  18. 

Medieval  civilization  had  its  faults.  What  civilization  has 
not?  But  we  moderns  must  not  forget  that  there  was  a  brilliant 
medieval  civilization,  great  in  intellectual  achievements,  notably 
in  philosophy,  theology,  literature,  and  architecture,  and  that 
this  was  chiefly  due  to  the  medieval  Latin  Church.  This 
civilization,  too,  was  cosmopolitan.  Latin  was  the  universal 
language  of  the  learned  Occident;  there  was  free  interchange 
of  scholarship  between  the  nations.  And  there  was  a  common 
religious  worship  which  bound  men  together  as  members 
of  the  terrestrial  portion  of  the  City  of  God,  and  made 
them  feel  in  close  intimacy,  too,  with  the  saints  of 
Heaven.  Consideration  of  the  other  world,  with  its  ideals  of 
purgation  from  sin  for  the  repentant,  condemnation  for  the 
unrepentant,  and  eternal  blessedness  for  the  redeemed,  was 
vivid,  and  did  much  to  inspire  men  to  livelier  faith  and  more 
devotion  to  pious  works.  In  no  other  period  in  history  has 
organized  Christianity  been  so  dominant  in  human  life ;  in  the 
ancient  world  it  had  to  compete  with  paganism ;  in  the  modern 
world  its  coherence  and  internationalism  have  been  sundered 
by  sects  and  it  has  had  to  compete  with  scientific  and  other 
secular  interests. 

After  the  thirteenth  century,  the  medieval  Latin  church 
passed  into  a  state  of  decay  from  which  it  was  only  rescued 
by  the  Catholic  and  Protestant  Reformations  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  The  very  head  of  the  church,  who  should  have  been 
faithful  to  his  duties  as  "vicar  of  Christ"  and  "servant  of  the 
servants  of  God,"  was  sometimes  either  a  moral  profligate,  or 


LATIN  CHURCH  171 

the  intriguing  prince  of  a  petty  Italian  state  with  no  con- 
ception of  his  apostolic  responsibilities,  or  so  extravagant  a 
lover  of  luxury  and  the  advancement  of  the  fine  arts  that  he 
connived  at  the  sale  of  indulgences  in  a  morally  vicious  way 
for  the  sake  of  revenues.  With  such  examples  in  the  see  of 
St.  Peter  itself,  nunneries  sometimes  became  little  better  than 
brothels,  monasteries  centers  of  sloth  and  vice,  and  cathedrals 
places  of  corruption.  The  discipline  of  the  sacraments,  which 
had  earlier  done  much  to  tame  barbarians  and  to  turn  their 
thoughts  to  spiritual  ideals,  became  the  tool  by  which  the 
credulities  and  superstitions  of  the  laity  could  be  exploited  to 
the  pecuniary  benefit  of  the  clergy.  By  the  beginning  of  the 
sixteenth  century  western  Christianity  had  sunk  to  the  low- 
est depths  that  it  has  ever  reached. 

REFERENCES 

*  Williston  Walker,  History  of  the  Christian  Church. 

*  George  Foot  Moore,  History  of  Religions,  Vol.  II. 

*  Edward  Wa-shburn  Hopkins,  History  of  Religions,  Chapter  XXIV. 

*  T.  R.  Glover,  The  Jesus  of  History. 

*  G.  W.  Stevens  and  E.  D.  Burton,  Harmony  of  the  Gospels. 

*  Shailer  Mathews,  The  Social  Teachings  of  Jesus. 

*  Lucius  Hopkins  Miller,  Our  Knowledge  of  Christ. 

*  B.  \V.  Bacon,  The  Making  of  the  New  Testament. 

*  Nathaniel  Schmidt,  The  Prophet  of  Nazareth.     The  Story  o/  St.  Paul. 
T.  R.  Glover,  Conflict  of  Religions  Within  the  Roman  Empire. 

A.  C.  McGiffert,  The  Apostolic  Age. 

C.  W.  Votaw,  History  of  the  Apostolic  Age. 

S.  J.  Case,  The  Evolution  of  Early  Christianity. 

S.  J.  Case,  The  Historicity  of  Jesus. 

Paul  Wernle,  The  Beginnings  of  Christianity. 

Albert  Schweitzer,  The  Quest  of  the  Historical  Jesus. 

Albert  Schweitzer,  Paul  and  His  Interpreters. 

H.   A.   Kennedy,  St.  Paul  and  the  Mystery  Religions. 

Carl  Clemen,  Primitive  Christianity  and  Its  Non-Jewish  Sources. 

Adolf  Harnack,  History  of  Dogma. 

Joseph  Cullen  Ayer,  Jr.,  Source  Book  for  Ancient  History. 

The  Apostolic  Fathers.  The  Ante-Nicene  Fathers.  Nicene  and  Post- 
Nicene  Fathers.  Hastings'  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics.  The 
Catholic  Cyclopaedia. 


CHAPTER  XII 
MODERN    CHRISTIANITY 

THE  modern  occidental  world  contains  two  principal  types 
of  Christianity: — the  modern  Roman  Catholic  church  which 
preserves  the  main  features  of  the  ancient  Catholic  and  the 
medieval  Latin  churches,  with  abuses  removed  and  doctrine  and 
discipline  perfected,  and  is  international  in  its  scope;  and  the 
various  Protestant  churches,  most  of  which  began  as  attempts 
to  restore  the  Christian  faith  to  what  it  was  believed  to  have 
been  in  New  Testament  times,  and  which  are  confined  within 
national  boundaries  either  as  state  churches  or  independent 
denominations.  The  Roman  Catholic  church  has  changed 
comparatively  little  since  the  reforms  of  the  sixteenth  century ; 
the  Protestant  viewpoints  have  undergone  considerable  modi- 
fication in  each  century.  Each  type  of  Christianity  has  met  the 
problems  and  conserved  the  socially  recognized  values  of  the 
modern  world  in  its  own  way.  In  separation  each  has  been 
able  to  develop  according  to  its  own  genius,  while  it  has  lost 
something  that  the  other  might  have  given  it,  had  there  been 
more  co-operation  between  them. 

I — The  Modern  Roman  Catholic  Church 

The  reform  of  the  Latin  Church  was  not  completed  until 
after  half  of  Europe  had  broken  away  from  it  as  a  result  of 
the  Protestant  Reformation.  However,  the  movement  had 
already  begun  in  Spain  in  the  closing  years  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  where,  under  Queen  Isabella  and  her  confessor  Ximines, 
there  had  been  a  thorough  reform  of  the  monasteries,  and  pro- 
vision made  for  the  better  education  of  the  clergy  and  the 
study  of  the  Bible. 

The  reformed  spiritual  environment  of  Spain  produced  St. 
Ignatius  Loyola  (f!556)  the  founder  of  the  Jesuit  order. 
Stirred  as  a  young  man  by  reading  the  lives  of  Christ,  St. 
Dominic  and  St.  Francis,  and  accounts  of  chivalry,  he  re- 
solved to  become  a  knight  in  a  spiritual  sense,  devoted  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  He  gathered  about  him  a  group  of 

172 


ROMAN  CATHOLICISM  173 

ardent  university  students  and  organized  a  religious  society. 
The  members  were  made  loyal  and  efficient  by  a  discipline 
modeled  after  that  of  soldiers.  In  place  of  military  drill  they 
conscientiously  followed  the  directions  given  in  Loyola's  man- 
ual of  Spiritual  Exercises.  The  systematic  cultivation  of  relig- 
ious experience  according  to  written  directions  and  under  the 
supervision  of  a  trained  spiritual  adviser  has  afforded  to 
members  of  the  Society  of  Jesus  a  vital  and  aggressive  Christian 
life  in  conformity  to  the  rule  of  the  order  and  in  service  of  the 
Church.  Through  preaching,  the  confessional,  and  foreign 
missions,  the  Jesuits  deepened  and  purified  the  spiritual  life  of 
Catholic  Europe  during  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  chief  faults  of  the  Jesuits  were  the  defects  of  their 
qualities.  Zeal  for  the  advancement  of  the  Church  sometimes 
led  them  to  political  intrigues ;  absolute  submission  to  superiors 
occasionally  led  to  a  deadening  of  individual  conscience,  and  a 
mechanical  performance  of  actions  that  were  not  always  right ; 
rigorous  orthodoxy  often  made  them  merciless  bigots  and  per- 
secutors. After  a  while  they  became  a  pest  in  Roman  Catholic 
countries,  and  governments  were  obliged  to  expel  them.  Finally 
the  pope  had  to  suppress  the  order  altogether  in  1773.  It  was 
again  revived  in  1814.  The  period  of  adversity  has  taught 
them  their  lesson ;  and  nothing  but  praise  is  due  to  the  Jesuits 
of  today  for  the  thoroughness  of  their  scholarship,  the  depth 
of  their  piety,  and  the  spirit  of  service  with  which  they  devote 
themselves  to  the  advancement  of  religion. 

The  awakened  conscience  of  Catholic  Europe  finally  forced 
the  calling  of  a  Council  at  Trent  in  1545.  Its  sessions  con- 
tinued, with  interruptions,  until  1563.  It  gave  formulation 
to  the  developments  of  Catholic  doctrines  during  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  made  definite  the  demarcation  between  Roman  Catho- 
licism and  Protestantism.  The  name  Roman  Catholic,  properly 
begins  at  this  time.  The  deposit  of  truth  vouchsafed  by  God 
at  the  time  of  the  coming  of  Christ  has  been  preserved  partly  in 
the  Bible  and  partly  in  tradition,  and  has  been  interpreted  by 
the  Church  under  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The 
abuses  of  previous  centuries  were  removed.  Discipline  was 
restored  in  monasteries.  The  abuse  of  indulgences  was  stopped. 
The  morality  of  the  clergy  was  reformed.  The  confessional 
was  restored  to  its  proper  function  as  the  medium  through 
which  true  contrition  finds  its  reward  in  merited  absolution  and 
is  effective  as  a  means  of  spiritual  counsel  and  guidance.  Popes 


174  MODERN   CHRISTIANITY 

and  clergy  again  became  men  of  Christian  piety  and  consecra- 
tion. The  reformation  of  the  church  was  followed  by  manifes- 
tations of  a  deepened  spirituality,  first  of  which  was  the  Span- 
ish mystical  movement  iod  by  Saint  Teresa  (f!582)  and  St. 
John  of  the  Cross  (f!591). 

Another  Council,  called  by  Pope  Pius  IX  in  1870,  settled 
definitely  two  dogmas,  the  infallibility  of  the  pope  and  the  im- 
maculate conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  The  former 
dogma  maintains  "that  the  Roman  Pontiff,  when  he  speaks 
ex  cathedra,  that  is  to  say,  when  in  exercise  of  the  office  of 
Pastor  and  Teacher  of  all  Christians,  in  virtue  of  his  supreme 
Apostolic  authority,  he  defines  a  doctrine  concerning  faith  or 
morals  to  be  held  by  the  whole  church,  by  the  divine  assistance 
promised  him  in  blessed  Peter,  he  has  that  infallibility  which 
the  divine  Redeemer  willed  that  his  Church  should  possess  in 
defining  doctrine  concerning  faith  and  morals ;  and  hence,  that 
such  definitions  of  the  Roman  Pontiff  are  of  themselves  and 
not  from  the  consent  of  the  Church,  irreforrnable."  The  effect 
of  this  doctrine  is  to  establish  the  authority  of  the  pope 
over  that  of  councils.  Moreover  his  decisions  are  infallible. 
There  still  seems  to  be  the  greatest  diversity  of  opinions  among 
Roman  Catholic  writers  just  which  of  the  recorded  utterances 
of  the  popes  must  be  regarded  as  ex  cathedra  in  this  infallible 
sense;  and  even  whether  they  are  very  many  or  extremely 
few  in  number;  no  list  of  them  has  ever  been  officially  an- 
nounced. 

According  to  the  Roman  Catholic  doctrine  of  the  Immaculate 
Conception,  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  was  conceived  by  her 
own  mother  St.  Anne,  free  from  all  taint  of  original  sin; 
she  conceived  her  Son  by  the  miraculous  action  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  she  remained  a  virgin  her  life  long,  free  from  sin. 
To  her,  accordingly,  special  honors  (hyperdouleia)  are  due, 
exceeding  those  of  the  saints  (douleia)  ;  yet  prayer  (latreia) 
is  not  offered  to  her,  but  to  God  above. 

The  Roman  Catholic  systems  of  doctrine  and  of  ecclesias- 
tical organization  are  fairly  fixed,  but  are  not  absolutely 
rigid.  The  various  creeds  and  decisions  of  councils  and  pro- 
nouncements of  popes  furnish  a  divinely  directed  and  infal- 
lible interpretation  of  the  original  deposit  of  truth.  But, 
just  as  our  American  federal  Constitution  wilj  always  require 
new  interpretations  as  new  conditions  arise,  and  as  points 
now  doubtful  will  some  time  probably  need  to  be  settled  by 


EARLIER  PROTESTANTISM  175 

the  Supreme  Court ;  so  future  popes  will  render  new  decisions,  1. 
Considerable  flexibility  is  allowed  by  the  admission  that  pre- 
sentations of  unchangeable  truths  must  differ  with  the  ages, 
just  as  dress  changes;  in  future  generations  it  is  conceivable 
that  popes  may  decide  that  much  is  "dress"  which  most  Catho- 
lics now  suppose  to  be  infallible  truth  itself.  It  is  safe  to  pre- 
dict that  Roman  Catholic  dogma  will  have  no  serious  difficulty 
in  adjusting  itself  to  any  future  scientific  or  historical  dis- 
coveries that  will  ever  be  made,  much  as  the  theologians  will 
always  contend  against  such  new  theories  as  at  first  appear  to 
be  in  conflict  with  the  old  faith.  Very  great  changes  could  be 
made  in  ecclesiastical  organization,  and  in  general  policies, 
should  they  ever  be  required.  Future  clergymen  might  be  per- 
mitted, to  marry ;  mass  might  be  said  in  vernacular  tongues. 

The  Roman  Catholic  church  is  quick  to  adapt  itself  to 
changed  political  and  social  conditions.  In  the  United  States, 
for  instance,  its  conscience  is  thoroughly  aroused  to  the  social 
and  industrial  evils  of  the  times.  The  program  of  Social  Re- 
construction, by  contemporary  bishops,  is  on  the  desk  of  every 
reformer.  The  work  of  active  laymen  in  such  organizations  as 
the  Knights  of  Columbus  reveals  a  splendid  spirit  of  Christian 
service,  and  shows  that  a  Church  that  once  inspired  her  young 
laymen  to  higher  ideals  by  the  institution  of  chivalry  has  not 
lost  her  resourcefulness  in  attracting  young  men. 

The  hasty  attempts  of  impetuous  radicals  to  introduce  new 
scientific,  historical,  and  philosophical  views  into  the  faith 
of  the  Church  before  they  had  become  properly  assimilated 
led  to  the  condemnation  of  Modernism  by  Pius  X.  The  theo-^ 
logy  of  the  Church  is  in  an  orthodox  manner  becoming  inter- 
preted and  adapted  to  the  knowledge  of  our  age  by  the  brilliant 
s'chool  of  Neo-Scholasticism.  The  University  of  Louvain  and 
Cardinal  Mercier  have  been  prominent  in  this  work. 

II — The   Earlier   Protestantism 

The  great  Protestant  revolts  which  permanently  separated 
the  peoples  of  northern  and  a  part  of  central  Europe,  from 
the  Latin  church,  though  foreshadowed  by  earlier  movements 
such  as  those  led  by  Wyclif  (f!384)  and  Huss  (f!416), 
began  in  1517  with  Martin  Luther  (f!546),  and  took  place 
during  the  course  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Roughly  speaking, 
each  movement  may  be  said  to  have  passed  through  four  phases. 
(1)  Abuses  in  the  Church  (like  the  sale  of  indulgences  in  the 


176  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

case  of  Luther)  led  to  vigorous  protests,  and  a  call  that  the 
church  authorities  correct  these  evils.  This  was  not  done 
promptly,  and  the  reformer  proceeded  to  insist  upon  further 
changes  in  discipline,  doctrine,  or  ritual  in  order  to  render  such 
abuses  impossible.  (2)  These  further  changes  were  not  made, 
and  the  reformer  soon  found  himself  rejecting  the  absolute 
authority  of  the  Church,  and  appealing  to  his  countrymen  to 
examine  the  merits  of  the  issue  for  themselves.  (3)  The  result, 
when  the  movement  was  successful,  was  the  organization  of  a 
new  religious  society,  independent  of  the  Latin  church.  (4) 
When  still  more  radical  innovators  appeared,  often  with  fan- 
tastic and  extravagant  proposals,  the  earlier  reformers  found 
it  necessary  to  perfect  standards  of  authority  for  the  guidance 
of  their  own  churches.  These  standards  proved  to  be  almost 
as  dogmatic  as  those  of  the  old  church  had  been. 

Several  general  characteristics  hold  for  nearly  all  Protest- 
ants of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.  Their  ultimate 
source  of  authority  was  the  Bible  which,  as  emphatically  as 
the  Church  of  Rome  itself,  they  affirmed  to  be  infallible.  They 
insisted,  however,  that  their  own  interpretations  of  the  Bible 
were  correct;  and  that  the  Roman  interpretation  was  wrong 
in  affirming  the  authority  of  church  traditions,  and  of  the  pro- 
nouncements of  Fathers,  councils,  and  popes.  They  rejected 
the  Latin  translation  of  the  Bible  made  by  St.  Jerome  from 
the  viewpoint  of  the  ancient  Catholic  Church  of  his  time.  They 
construed  the  original  Hebrew  and  Greek  texts  in  their  own 
fashion.  Whether  they  actually  got  any  nearer  to  the  spirit 
of  the  original  Scriptures  is  a  question  on  which  critical 
scholars  still  disagree  almost  as  much  as  conservative  Catholic 
and  Protestant  theologians. 

The  Protestant  reformers,  at  any  rate,  succeeded  in  rendering 
the  Bible  messages  more  suggestive  and  helpful  to  the  men  of 
their  own  age,  nations,  and  temperament.  Protestantism  then, 
and  ever  since,  has  been  organized  in  churches  that  are  confined 
within  a  single  state,  and  so  reflect  national  characteristics  more 
completely, — an  undoubted  advantage  for  the  Germanic  and 
Scandinavian  races,  whose  psychology  is  markedly  different 
from  the  Latin  races  who  adhered  to  the  old  Church.  The 
Protestant  churches  all  asserted  the  value  of  the  experience  of 
the  individual  in  his  personal  and  private  relation  to  God.  So 
Protestantism  is  highly  individualistic;  each  man  gains  salva- 
tion by  the  grace  of  God  afforded  to  him  directly.  Five  of 


CONTINENTAL  PROTESTANTS  177 

the  sacraments  and  all  of  the  sacramentals  were  abolished  as 
unscriptural  and  unnecessary;  only  Baptism  and  the  Lord's 
Supper  were  retained.  These  last  two  were  variously  inter- 
preted ;  but  the  notion  of  a  physical  miracle  was  usually 
abandoned,  and  their  significance  made  purely  spiritual.  The 
Quakers  eliminated  sacraments  altogether,  insisting  that  no 
material  media  should  be  employed  in  the  purely  spiritual 
worship  of  God.  In  brief,  in  opposition  to  the  Latin  church, 
which  insisted  that  the  individual  could  only  be  saved  through 
the  reception  of  miraculous  sacraments  administered  by  priests 
in  apostolic  succession  in  a  universal  and  infallible  church, 
Protestants  claimed  that  salvation  is  vouchsafed  by  the  individ- 
ual in  direct,  personal  relation  to  God. 

Having  put  the  individual  entirely  upon  his  own  responsi- 
bility before  God,  instead  of  allowing  him  in  some  measure  to 
share  it  with  his  confessor,  Protestantism  had  to  afford  elemen- 
tary education  in  the  Bible  and  in  the  doctrines  of  their 
churches  to  everyone.  So  Protestantism  did  much  to  make  ele- 
mentary education  universal  in  the  countries  where  it  pre- 
vailed. Roman  Catholicism  was  comparatively  more  neglectful 
of  education  for  the  masses  of  the  people,  but  more  thorough 
in  its  provision  of  education  for  the  clergy. 

Very  few  Protestants  had  any  notion  of  religious  toleration, 
except  for  their  own  sects  when  they  happened  to  be  in  the 
minority,  until  the  eighteenth  century.  The  ambition  of  nearly 
every  sect  was  to  gain  control  of  the  government,  make  their 
own  the  official  religion,  and  to  proscribe  other  forms  of  wor- 
ship. This  was  because,  as  John  Cotton,  a  New  England  Puri- 
tan, explained,  "There  is  a  vast  difference  between  men's 
inventions  and  God's  institutions."  Since  each  sect  believed  their 
own  faith  to  be  God's  institution,  it  was  their  duty  therefore  to 
try  to  compel  other  men  to  conform  to  the  will  of  God. 

Ill — Continental  Movements 

Lutheranism  became  the  state  religion  in  northern  Germany 
and  the  Scandinavian  countries.  It  remained  more  like  the 
Latin  church  in  its  interpretation  of  the  sacraments  than  other 
forms  of  Protestantism.  In  the  Lord's  Supper,  for  instance, 
Luther  believed  that  Christ  is  physically  present,  along  with 
the  ordinary  elements  of  the  bread  and  wine  (consubstantia- 
tion,  a  slightly  different  view  from  the  orthodox  Latin  doctrine, 
of  iransubstantiation,  according  to  which  the  underlying  sub- 


178  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

stance  of  the  bread  and  wine  becomes  transformed  into  the  body 
and  blood  of  Christ).  In  close  alliance  with  the  political  rulers 
of  Protestant  Germany,  Lutheranism  during  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries  and  even  later,  looked  with  disfavor 
upon  the  efforts  of  the  peasants,  then  practically  serfs,  to  gain 
political  and  civil  rights  and  to  better  their  economic  condi- 
tion. Lutheranism  has  always  done  much  to  further  the  cause 
of  education,  and  to  develop  sturdiness  of  character  and  inde- 
pendent convictions  among  its  adherents,  as  well  as  loyal  sup- 
port of  law  and  order. 

Though  the  Reformation  began  in  Switzerland,  with  Zwingli 
(f!531)  the  movement  there  ultimately  took  its  name  from 
John  Calvin  (f!564)  who  was  long  its  leader,  and  who  was 
the  most  brilliant  theologian  of  the  Protestant  Reformation. 
Like  Lutheranism,  Calvinism  affirms  justification  by  faith,  that 
the  individual's  personal  faith  alone  renders  him  acceptable  to 
God,  (and  not  his  performance  of  penance  and  other  pious  acts 
under  the  direction  of  a  priest).  Calvinism  is  built  upon  the 
dogma  of  the  absolute  sovereignty  of  God,  including  omnipo- 
tence, omniscience  and  eternal  justice — a  common  Christian 
doctrine,  but  developed  by  Calvinists  with  relentless  logic  to 
extreme  conclusions.  Calvinism  is  often  summarized  in  five 
points.  (1)  Every  human  being,  as  a  descendant  of  Adam 
(whom  all  Christians  in  those  times  supposed  to  be  an  historical 
character)  is  guilty  from  his  birth  of  original  sin,  in  addition 
to  later  sins  committed  in  his  own  lifetime.  A  man  can  do 
nothing  to  remove  his  own  sin  and  guilt ;  that  can  only  be  done 
by  the  grace  of  God,  mercifully  vouchsafed  to  him  through 
the  atonement  of  Christ,  and  without  any  merit  whatever  on 
his  own  part.  (2)  So  only  those  certain  persons  can  be  saved 
(particular  redemption)  (3)  to  whom  God  gives  an  effectual 
calling,  strengthening  their  wills,  and  enabling  them  to  accept 
salvation.  (4)  Who  shall,  and  who  shall  not  be  saved  is  thus 
a  matter  of  divine  election,  or  predestination.  (5)  God  will 
never  fail  those  who  are  his  elect ;  they  shall  never  fall  from 
ultimate  salvation  (perseverance  of  the  saints).  Calvinists  in- 
sisted with  great  heat,  and  endeavored  with  much  subtilty  to 
demonstrate,  that  their  doctrine  fully  provides  for  human  free- 
dom, and  that  God  is  in  no  way  responsible  for  human  sin. 

Calvinism  did  not  seem  harsh  to  its  adherents  in  the  six- 
teenth and  seventeenth  centuries.  They  were  looking  for  a  the- 
ology that  would  assure  their  independence  of  the  authority  of 


CONTINENTAL  PROTESTANTS  179 

Rome  and  of  the  medieval  system  of  sacraments.  This  doctrine 
was  satisfactory  on  this  score;  since  one's  predestination  is 
in  the  hands  of  God  alone,  one  does  not  need  a  fellow  man  for 
confessor.  Calvin  dispensed  with  a  separate  order  of  bishops, 
maintaining  that  in  the  New  Testament  "bishop,"  "presbyter" 
and  "deacon"  are  synonymous  terms,  and  refer  to  officers 
voluntarily  chosen  by  the  members  of  the  local  church.  Calvin- 
ism carried  this  idea  of  self-government  over  to  political  insti- 
tutions, repudiating  the  divine  right  of'the  king  as  well  as  that 
of  the  bishop.  It  did  much  to  develop  conceptions  of  popular 
government  in  both  church  and  state  in  Switzerland,  Holland, 
and  Great  Britain,  countries  in  which  it  became  the  dominant 
theology.  It  also  had  many  followers  in  France  (the  Huge- 
nots)  and  in  parts  of  Germany,  (where  it  was  known  as  the 
"reformed"  faith  in  opposition  to  "evangelical"  Lutheranism) . 

Calvinism  did  much  for  education,  both  of  the  ministry  and 
the  laity.  Its  subtle  theology  furnished  inexhaustible  themes 
for  discussion  in  sermons  and  praver  meetings.  To  it  the 
Scotch  owe  much  of  their  famous  skill  in  metaphysics ;  the  same 
is  true  of  American  divines  prior  to  the  Revolution.  Calvin- 
ism had  remarkable  influence  in  developing  extreme  independ- 
ence of  thought  and  self-reliance;  its  adherents,  confident  of 
themselves  as  the  elect  of  God,  were  bold  and  courageous  fighters 
for  liberty.  Independent  toward  his  fellowmen,  including  his 
rulers,  the  Calvinist  was  humble  and  grateful  in  his  attitude 
toward  God,  believing  in  his  own  sinfulness  and  unworthiness, 
and  his  complete  dependence  on  divine  love  and  mercy.  Pro- 
fessor Mecklin  has  shown  that  Calvinism  is  responsible  for 
many  American  characteristics,  including  individualism  in 
religion,  politics,  and  business,  as  well  as  conscientiousness  and 
ethical  idealism,  and  unfortunately,  the  defects  of  these 
qualities,  2. 

Three  other  Protestant  movements  on  the  continent  of 
Europe  require  notice.  The  Arminians  (named  from  one  of  the 
earlier  leaders  of  the  movement  Jacobus  Arminius  f!609,  pro- 
fessor in  the  University  of  Leyden)  published  a  "Remon- 
strance" against  the  rigors  of  Calvinism.  While  they  admitted 
that  men  can  do  nothing  good  of  themselves  apart  from  divine 
grace,  they  thought  that  God  has  left  men  free  to  accept  or 
reject  the  atonement  of  Christ.  It  is  only  by  reason  of  this 
omniscience  that  God  can  be  said  to  have  known  when  He 
created  mankind  who  would  choose  to  accept  Christ.  Armin- 


180  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

ianism  laid  less  stress  on  systematic  theology  and  more  upon 
Christianity  as  a  force  for  moral  transformation.  It  was  a 
heartening  faith  to  those  who  could  not  feel  sure  that  they 
were  of  the  elect ;  every  one  is  free  to  choose  whether  he  will 
accept  Christ  and  be  saved.  In  abandoning  predestination, 
it  had  to  relinquish  full  confidence  in  the  doctrine  of  the  per- 
severance of  the  saints ;  men  who  have  accepted  grace  may  later 
lose  it.  So  the  Arminian  was  less  self-reliant  than  the  Calvin- 
ist,  to  whom  he  seemed  weak,  emotional,  and  instable ;  while 
to  him  the  Calvinist  appeared  harsh  and  inhuman.  Both,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  were  usually  good  Christian  men.  In  the 
sixteenth  century  Arminianism  had  its  chief  vogue  in  the  Nether- 
lands. In  the  eighteenth  century  it  gained  a  large  following  in 
England,  both  in  the  state  Church,  and  among  the  Wesleyans. 
It  has  in  America  been  the  avowed  doctrine  of  the  Methodists, 
and  has  been  held  by  many  individuals  in  all  the  Protestant 
churches,  even  those  nominally  Calvinistic. 

The  Anabaptists  were  in  some  respects  the  most  consistent 
of  the  sixteenth  century  reformers-  in  their  extreme  individ- 
ualism, 3.  They  knew  no  authority  except  the  Bible,  and  sought 
to  restore  the  primitive  church  of  the  New  Testament,  as  they 
understood  it.  To  be  saved  an  adult  should  (1)  hear  the 
preaching  of  the  Word,  become  "regenerated"  (that  is  experi- 
ence a  conscious  change  of  heart  and  adopt  a  severely  simple 
life  of  strict  Sabbath  observance  and  abandonment  of  all 
worldly  amusements),  (2)  make  a  public  confession  of  faith, 
(3)  be  baptized  by  immersion,  and  (4)  become  a  member  of 
one  of  their  churches.  Only  those  members  would  be  saved 
whose  conduct  was  strictly  righteous  according  to  their  stand- 
ards. They  discarded  infant  baptism  as  unscriptural,  and 
would  not  unite  in  the  communion  service  with  other  Christians. 
Each  of  their  local  congregations  governed  itself,  in  com- 
plete independence  from  the  rest.  They  thought  it  wrong 
to  take  oaths,  bear  arms,  or  take  any  part  in  civil  govern- 
ment, thus  interpreting  New  Testament  passages  quite  literally. 
This  movement  started  in  Switzerland,  chiefly  in  Zurich,  per- 
haps a  little  earlier  than  the  Lutheran  reformation  in  Ger- 
many. In  1526  the  Protestant  Zurich  government  ordered 
them  drowned,  and  several  suffered  martyrdom  in  this  manner. 
Those  who  escaped  became  dispersed  in  Germany  and  the 
Netherlands,  where  they  won  many  converts,  in  spite  of  perse- 
cution by  Catholics,  who  usually  burned  them,  and  by  Protest- 


ENGLISH  REFORMATION  181 

ants,  who  usually  banished  them.  In  some  respects  they  are  the 
spiritual  ancestors  of  English  speaking  Baptists,  Congrega- 
tionalists,  and  Friends. 

The  Socinians  pushed  certain  Protestant  principles  further 
than  any  of  their  contemporaries.  They  were  regarded  with 
horror  by  all  other  Protestants  as  heretics.  Their  founder 
was  Fausto  Sozzini  (f!604),  an  Italian  who  found  refuge  dur- 
ing the  latter  portion  of  his  life  in  Transylvania  and  Poland, 
where  his  views  were  then  more  tolerated  than  elsewhere.  The 
Socinians  believed  in  the  supreme  authority  of  the  Bible,  which 
they  affirmed  to  be  rational  in  all  that  it  teaches,  and  which 
they  endeavored  at  the  same  time  to  interpret  literally.  They 
rejected  predestination  and  original  sin.  Men  are  able  of 
their  own  free  will  to  accept  divine  salvation.  God  gave  men 
the  Bible  and  the  life  of  Christ.  The  mission  of  Christ  is  not 
to  satisfy  divine  justice  but  to  serve  as  an  example  to  other 
men.  The  Socinians  rejected  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
They  rejected  the  deity  of  Christ,  along  with  his  incarnation 
and  atonement;  but  they  accepted  the  scriptural  accounts  of 
his  miracles  and  resurrection,  and  they  observed  Baptism  and 
the  Lord's  Supper  in  obedience  to  his  commands,  without  be- 
lieving them  to  be  supernatural  in  their  operations,  but  merely 
symbolical  and  commemorative.  Socinianism  was  crushed  out 
in  Poland,  but  still  survives  in  Transylvania.  Socinians 
found  comparative  freedom  from  persecution  in  Holland  and 
England,  where,  though  few  in  number,  their  writings  stimu- 
lated critical  interpretation  of  the  Bible,  and  not  only  ultimate- 
ly gave  birth  (toward  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century) 
to  Unitarianism,  but  to  more  liberal  thinking  in  the  traditional 
Protestant  churches. 

The  following  facts  about  all  of  these  movements  stand 
out 'clearly.  Sincere  Christians  in  every  one  of  them  succeeded 
in  the  conservation  of  values  through  the  dynamic  power  of 
Christ.  All  ultimately  found  discipline  and  authority  neces- 
sary to  prevent  extravagances.  None  knew  how  to  find  a 
stable  basis  of  authority  without  assuming  the  literal  infallibil- 
ity of  the  Bible,  and  dogmatically  declaring  their  own  interpre- 
tation of  it  alone  to  be  correct.  Nobody  appreciated  the  merits 
of  other  sects  and  the  defects  of  his  own. 

TV — The  English  Reformation 
The  Protestant  reformation  in  England  had  as  its  primary 


182  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

cause  the  national  love  of  independence  combined  with  resent- 
ment at  abuses  in  the  Church.  The  English  people  desired  the 
independence  of  their  national  church  from  the  rule  of  the 
papacy,  and  believed  that  their  own  government  could  and 
should  undertake  its  reformation.  By  appealing  to  these 
motives  Henry  VIII  induced  Parliament  in  1534  with  general 
approval  of  the  nation,  to  pass  an  act  declaring  the  Icing  and 
his  successors  "the  only  supreme  head  on  earth  of  the  Church  of 
England"  with  power  to  redress  heresies  and  abuses.  While 
by  provoking  this  revolt  Henry  was  able  to  gain  ecclesiastical 
sanction  for  the  divorce  of  his  wife  and  for  confiscation  of 
the  property  of  the  monasteries,  these  motives  at  most  consti- 
tute the  reason  why  the  break  with  Rome  came  just  at  that 
time;  entirely  apart  from  them,  a  rupture  before  long  would 
have  been  inevitable. 

In  breaking  with  Rome  and  asserting  the  independence  of 
the  state  Church  of  England,  the  royal  house  was  conservative 
and  wished  to  make  no  more  alterations  in  doctrine,  ritual 
and  organization  than  would  meet  with  general  approval. 
Under  the  long  reign  of  Elizabeth  (1558-1603)  the  Church 
of  England  gradually  assumed  the  main  characteristics  that 
it  has  permanently  retained.  The  Church  is  organized  under 
the  rule  of  bishops  who  claim  apostolic  succession.  The 
ritual,  as  outlined  in  the  Prayer  Book,  retains  and  emphasizes 
the  more  spiritual  portions  of  the  Roman  liturgy, — yet,  in  the 
opinion  of  most  Anglicans,  it  gives  them  a  distinctly  Protestant 
interpretation.  As  is  believed,  the  service  has  lost  none  of  its 
former  beauty  and  impressiveness  by  being  given  in  English, 
while  it  has  gained  in  helpfulness  by  being  intelligible  to  all. 
The  statement  of  the  doctrines  of  the  church  was  formulated 
in  Thirty-Nine  Articles,  which  emphasize  points  common  to 
Calvinists  and  Lutherans,  including  justification  by  faith  and 
predestination,  and  avoiding  the  points  most  in  controversy 
among  Protestants  in  the  sixteenth  century.  The  attempt 
was  to  allow  for  reasonable  differences  of  opinion  within  the 
national  church,  so  far  as  practicable,  and  thus  to  prevent 
dissent,  and  to  command  the  general  cordial  support  and  adher- 
ence of  all.  This  attempt  was  in  so  far  forth  successful  that  it 
has  always  held  a  large  portion, — at  times  the  vast  majority, 
and  perhaps  still  a  slight  majority — of  the  population  in 
conformity  to  a  single  church.  After  the  Revolution,  the 


ENGLISH  REFORMATION  183 

American  portion  of  the  Church  separated,  and  became  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church. 

The  attempt  to  retain  all  Englishmen  within  one  Church  was 
by  no  means  wholly  successful.  While  few  in  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries  objected  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Church 
of  England,  a  considerable  number  disliked  its  ritual  and  form 

O  * 

of  government.  The  more  moderate  of  these  remained  within 
the  Church,  where  they  agitated  for  the  removal  of  what  they 
believed  to  be  unscriptural  features  of  the  ritual,  such  as  the 
use  of  vestments,  marriage  rings,  the  sign  of  the  cross,  kneel- 
ing at  communion,  and  the  like.  There  were  the  original  Puri- 
tans who  in  these  respects  aspired  to  "purify"  the  Church. 
Under  the  leadership  of  Thomas  Cartwright  (f!603)  they 
called  for  the  election  of  pastors  by  the  people  of  the  parish,  the 
appointment  of  elders,  and  the  essential  parity  of  the  clergy 
(Presbyterianism).  They  were  Calvinists  in  matters  of  doc- 
trine. 

There  were  also  radicals  who  were  impatient  for  the  immedi- 
ate reformation  of  the  Church  of  England  "without  tarrying." 
Under  the  leadership  of  Robert  Browne  (f!633)  and  others, 
these  radicals  became  "Separatists"  from  the  national  Church, 
and  organized  independent  societies.  Each  of  these  local 
churches  was  a  unit  in  itself,  choosing  its  own  pastor,  and 
other  officers,  and  forming  its  own  articles  of  belief  and  order 
of  worship.  No  church  had  any  authority  over  the  other 
churches ;  but  all  co-operated  for  common  interests.  This  is 
Congregationalism.  In  doctrine  they  were  Calvinistic.  Both 
Puritans  and  Separatists  met  with  a  good  deal  of  persecution 
under  Elizabeth  and  James  I.  Some  of  them,  especially  Separa- 
tists, found  it  necessary  to  leave  England  and  took  refuge  in 
Holland.  In  1620,  a  group  of  members  of  this  church  at  Leyden 
set  sail  for  America  in  the  Mayflower  and  established  Congrega- 
tionalism in  New  England, — the  Pilerrim  Fathers.  The  Puritans, 
who  had  remained  in  the  Church  of  England,  found  the  process 
of  winning  others  to  their  side  slower  than  they  had  anticipated. 
Charles  I  was  very  unfriendly  to  them ;  he  gave  preference  to 
Arminians  over  Calvinists  in  church  appointments ;  and  he 
reissued  the  Declaration  of  Sports  of  his  father,  James  I,  which 
commended  the  old  Sunday  games  and  dances.  Some  of  the 
Puritans  became  impatient,  emigrated  to  America  under  the 
leadership  of  John  Winthrop  (f!649)  and  others,  and  founded 


184  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

the  colony  of  Massachusetts  Bay.  Like  the  Pilgrims,  they 
organized  their  churches  in  the  Congregational  manner. 

More  radical  still  was  John  Smyth  (f!612)  a  Separatist 
minister  who  went  to  Holland,  came  into  contact  with  the 
Mennonites,  and  became  convinced  that  infant  baptism  was 
unscriptural,  and  so  taught  his  congregation  there.  Two  of 
its  members,  Thomas  Helwys  and  John  Morton  led  a  group  of 
the  others  back  to  England,  where  about  1612  they  established 
a  Baptist  church.  The  Baptists  multiplied ;  they  ultimately 
adopted  baptism  by  immersion  and  refused  to  participate  in  the 
communion  service  with  other  Christians.  They  acclaimed  the 
congregational  form  of  church  organization,  and  usually  were 
Calvinists.  In  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries,  espe- 
cially in  America,  they  became  almost  as  renowned  as  the 
Methodists  for  their  evangelical  revivals. 

In  Scotland  the  Reformation  was  also  a  movement  for  na- 
tional independence.  Against  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  who  was 
French  in  her  sympathies,  as  well  as  a  determined  Roman  Catho- 
lic, John  Knox  (f  1572)  led  the  cause  of  liberty  under  the  aegis 
of  Calvinism,  and  organized  the  national  church  on  Presby- 
terian lines,  with  a  minister  and  lay  elders  selected  by  the  local 
congregation  to  govern  its  affairs.  As  the  Presbyterian  system 
ultimately  developed,  the  churches  in  a  locality  became  organ- 
ized, and  their  representatives  met  for  conference  in  "presby- 
teries"; over  these  were  "synods";  and  over  all  the  "General 
Assembly,"  the  supreme  governing  body  of  the  whole  denomina- 
tion. Such  is  also  the  Presbyterian  system  in  the  United 
States. 

When  the  Puritans  succeeded  for  a  time  in  gaining  control  of 
England,  they  could  not  agree  among  themselves.  The  West- 
minster Assembly,  composed  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  clergy- 
men and  thirty  laymen,  was  called  by  Parliament  to  plan  for  the 
reorganization  of  the  national  church.  It  prepared  the  West- 
minster Confession  of  Faith  and  Catechisms  along  Calvinistic 
lines,  which  were  then  accepted  by  Congregationalists  and 
Baptists  as  well  as  by  Presbyterians.  On  the  restoration  of 
the  Stuarts  in  1660,  the  state  churches,  both  in  England  and 
Scotland  were  again  made  Episcopal  in  organization.  Since 
the  Revolution  of  1688,  the  Church  of  England  has  remained 
Episcopalian,  while  the  Church  of  Scotland  has  been  Presby- 
terian. 

During  the  stormy  civil  wars  in  England  arose  a  sect  that 


THE  ENLIGHTENMENT  185 

regard  all  participation  by  Christians  in  warfare  as  wrong — 
the  Society  of  Friends  ("Quakers").  Founded  by  George  Fox 
(f!691),  they  believe  that  Christianity  is  an  inner  spiritual 
experience,  that  requires  little  outward  formalism.  Sacraments 
are  spiritual ;  outward  elements  should  be  dispensed  with. 
Slavery  is  wrong.  Christians  should  keep  their  word ;  oaths 
are  superflous.  Dress  and  manners  and  speech  should  be  simple 
and  unaffected;  artificial  titles  should  be  abolished.  William 
Penn  gained  for  them  the  grant  of  the  colony  of  Pennsylvania 
in  1681.  It  is  fortunate  for  America  that  this  colony  soon 
became  well  established;  for  the  Quakers  obtained  freedom  of 
worship  in  England  in  1689.  Though  never  numerous,  they 
have  exercised  a  deep  influence  in  the  direction  of  simplicity  and 
spirituality  in  religion,  and  in  aversion  to  warfare,  slavery,  and 
social  cruelties  of  all  kinds. 

V — The  Enlightenment 

Down  almost  to  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
Protestantism  continued  to  be  largely  medieval  in  its  outlook. 
To  be  sure,  it  was  modern  in  its  assertion  of  the  personal  rela- 
tionship of  the  individual  to  God,  of  nationalism  and,  in  most 
of  its  forms,  of  political  liberty.  But  it  knew  little  or  nothing 
of  religious  tolerance.  The  great  Protestant  creeds  of  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  were  written  by  men  who 
rejected  the  Copernican  astronomy  as  unscriptural,  and  with 
no  notion  of  the  uniformity  of  natural  laws,  thought  that 
physical  miracles  due  to  the  activities  of  good  and  bad  angels 
and  witches  were  constantly  occurring  around  them.  They 
firmly  believed  in  the  literal  infallibility  of  the  Scriptures  from 
cover  to  cover;  their  whole  theology  was  based  on  their  belief 
that  God  had  created  the  earth  about  six  thousand  years  ago, 
and  that  Adam  and  Eve  had  disobeyed  him  by  eating  fruit 
contrary  to  His  express  command,  and  that  in  consequence  of 
this  disobedience  no  human  being  can  escape  an  eternity  in 
fire  and  brimstone  except  through  acceptance  of  the  atonement 
of  Christ  in  satisfaction  of  divine  justice.  Their  conceptions 
were  sublimely  and  beautifully  expressed  in  Milton's  Paradise 
Lost  and  Paradise  Regained.  Those  who  today  read  these 
poems  as  they  read  Homer  and  Virgil,  as  poetical  expressions 
of  religious  mythology,  must  remember  that  to  our  ancestors 
they  portrayed  historic  facts. 

Contemporaneous  with  the   rise   of  the  Protestant   creeds, 


186  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

however,  there  was  developing  in  science  and  philosophy  a 
changed  view  of  the  world  and  of  human  life  which  became 
dominant  in  European  thought  in  the  course  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  and  has  since  gradually  given  to  Protestantism  a 
changed  outlook.  The  period  of  the  Enlightenment  is  usually 
dated  from  the  publication  of  Locke's  Essay  on  Human  Under- 
standing in  1690  to  that  of  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  in 
1781.  The  movement,  however,  could  not  have  taken  place  if 
it  had  not  been  for  earlier  scientific  and  philosophical  develop- 
ments. As  an  outcome  of  the  researches  of  Copernicus  (j-1543) 
Tycho  Brahe  (fl601),  Galileo  Galilei  (f!642),  and  Isaac 
Newton  (f  1727)  a  mechanical  conception  of  the  physical  world 
became  accepted  by  scientists ;  the  bodies  of  our  solar  system 
move  about  the  sun,  and  those  of  other  systems  about  other 
suns;  these  movements  are  subject  to  the  law  of  gravitation, 
stated  in  a  mathematical  formula.  In  such  a  universe  Heaven 
and  Hell  and  the  throne  of  God  cannot  be  put  in  definite  places ; 
the  course  of  physical  events  is  not  interfered  with  by  angels, 
devils,  and  witches ;  even  the  bodies  of  animals  and  men,  as 
William  Harvey  (f!658)  and  Rene  Descartes  (f!650) 
showed,  are  subject  to  the  same  mechanical  laws  as  other 
matter. 

The  rapid  progress  of  the  sciences  had  led  the  philosophers 
of  the  seventeenth  century  to  attempt  to  interpret  the  world  as 
a  whole  and  the  significance  of  human  life  along  lines  suggested 
by  the  sciences.  Not  giving  more  than  lip  service  to  the  teach- 
ings of  the  churches,  as  a  rule,  with  characteristic  modern 
individualism,  they  struck  out  for  themselves  to  work  out 
methods  of  investigation  and  to  erect  elaborate  philosophical 
systems.  The  empirical  method  of  Francis  Bacon  (1*1626) 
bases  all  knowledge  on  experiment  and  observation.  The 
rationalism  of  Descartes,  in  imitation  of  mathematics,  began 
with  simple  propositions,  whose  apparent  clearness  and  dis- 
tinctness made  them  appear  self-evident,  and  proceeded  to 
demonstrate  their  logical  consequences.  Neither  method  made 
use  of  Biblical  revelation  and  church  authority  in  establishing 
conclusions.  In  their  own  way,  though,  the  great  seventeenth 
century  philosophers  were  almost  as  dogmatic  as  their  theo- 
logical contemporaries.  Without  first  testing  the  powers  of 
the  human  understanding,  they  boldly  proceeded  to  work  out 
elaborate  systems,  in  which  they  thought  that  they  proved  and 
explained  the  nature  of  the  universe,  including  God,  the  soul 


THE  ENLIGHTENMENT  187 

of  man,  and  everything  else.  Some  of  these  systems  are  still 
of  greatest  importance ;  no  one  can  go  far  in  the  understanding 
of  twentieth  century  philosophy  who  is  not  at  least  acquainted 
with  the  thought  of  Descartes,  Hobbes,  Spinoza,  and  Leibniz. 

By  the  last  decade  of  the  seventeenth  century,  thinking  people 
in  England,  at  least,  were  ready  for  a  change.  With  the  Revolu- 
tion of  1688  and  the  coming  of  William  and  Mary  to  the 
throne,  a  new  era  developed  in  politics,  religion,  and  philosophy. 
The  authority  of  the  new  sovereigns  rested  frankly  on  the  will 
of  the  people  and  Parliament ;  the  principle  of  divine  right  was 
abandoned.  In  religion  the  government  sought  to  make  the 
Church  of  England  broad  enough  so  that  the  great  majority 
would  be  satisfied  with  it ;  they  succeeded  so  well  that  at  least 
nine-tenths  of  the  population  soon  adhered  to  it ;  dissenters 
on  the  other  hand  enjoyed  wide  liberties.  Only  the  handful 
of  Romanists,  atheists,  and  Socinians  had  much  cause  for 
discontent  with  the  existing  order. 

The  philosophical  interpreter  of  this  era  was  John  Locke 
(fl704).  His  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding  (1690) 
proclaims  the  necessity  of  examining  the  sources  of  human 
knowledge  before  attempting  to  theorize  on  ultimate  questions. 
All  ordinary  human  knowledge  comes  from  simple  ideas  afforded 
in  the  mental  processes  of  sensation  and  reflection ;  there  are  no 
innate  ideas.  Locke  thought  it  possible  to  prove  the  existence 
of  God,  and  he  based  moral  principles  upon  the  commandments 
of  God,  although  he  believed  them  capable  of  rational  demon- 
stration. He  believed  in  revelation  and  the  miracles  of  the  Bible. 
In  a  later  work  he  affirmed  that  Christianity  is  essentially  rea- 
sonable; for  nothing  in  it  is  contrary  to  reason,  although  some 
truths  could  not  have  been  known  by  reason  alone,  unaided  by 
revelation.  In  making  Christianity  reasonable,  he  discarded 
much  theology,  and  reduced  its  fundamentals  to  acceptance  of 
Jesus  as  the  Messiah  and  practice  of  the  virtues  which  Jesus 
proclaimed ;  this  is  all  that  is  requisite  for  salvation.  It  follows 
that  wide  toleration  should  be  permitted.  He  was  willing  to 
tolerate  Jews  and  Mohammedans.  Locke's  philosophy  exercised 
wide  influence  during  the  next  hundred  years. 

Other  philosophers  soon  pushed  the  philosophy  of  reason  and 
experience  further  than  Locke  had  done.  Shaftesbury  (tl713) 
removed  morality  from  a  theological  foundation  and  based  it  on 
the  fundamental  constitution  of  human  nature,  and  made  it 
consist  of  a  proper  balancing  of  selfish  and  social  motives. 


188  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

Since  his  time  it  has  gradually  become  recognized  that  to  know 
and  to  act  upon  principles  of  right  and  wrong  are  not 
dependent  on  the  acceptance  of  any  kind  of  religious  beliefs ; 
although,  of  course,  religion  furnishes  an  additional  sanction 
to  right  conduct.  A  government  can  leave  all  its  subjects  free 
to  practise  any  form  of  religious  belief,  or  none  whatever,  as 
they  choose ;  provided  only  they  live  within  the  limits  of  moral 
decency  and  are  not  military  revolutionists.  The  Deists, 
following  Locke's  doctrine  that  Christianity  is  essentially 
reasonable,  proceeded  to  eliminate  miracles  and  revelation,  and 
to  reduce  Christianity  to  belief  in  God  and  a  few  broad  prin- 
ciples that  are  common  to  all  religions  and  have  always  been 
accepted  by  thinking  men.  Hence  the  titles  of  Deistic  books: 
Christianity  not  Mysterious  by  John  Toland  (f!722),  Chris- 
tianity as  Old  as  the  Creation  by  Mathew  Tindal  (f!733),  and 
a  Discourse  on  Free  Thinking  by  Anthony  Collins  (fl729). 
The  Deists  enjoyed  little  prestige  in  England,  and  numerous 
theologians  thought  that  they  successfully  refuted  them.  How- 
ever, the  refutations,  most  famous  among  which  is  the  Analogy 
of  Religion  by  Joseph  Butler  (fl752),  had  to  combat  Deistic 
arguments  by  reasoning,  not  by  appeals  to  the  authority 
and  revelation  of  infallible  scriptures ;  and  in  this  sense  liberal 
Protestantism  ever  since  has  had  a  fundamentally  different 
attitude  from  the  dogmatic  Protestantism  of  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries. 

Spinoza,  in  the  previous  century,  had  attacked  miracles  as 
impossible  in  a  world  governed  by  uniform  laws ;  his  attack  had 
been  ignored,  however.  The  assaults  of  the  Deists  were  supposed 
to  have  been  disposed  of  by  Butler.  But  David  Hume  (f  1776) 
while  exercising  Enlightment  caution  regarding  the  limits 
of  human  knowledge  and  the  impossibility  of  making  absolute 
assertions,  pointed  out  that  the  reports  of  the  occurrence  of 
miracles  furnished  by  witnesses  must  always  appear  unlikely 
to  any  one  who  candidly  examines  them,  since  experience  finds 
the  uniformity  of  nature  much  more  dependable  than  the 
accuracy  of  human  testimony.  To  Hume  also  belongs  the 
credit,  in  his  Natural  History  of  Religions,  of  showing  that 
religion  has  passed  through  periods  of  development,  polytheism 
having  preceded  monotheism.  Edward  Gibbon  (f!794) 
endeavored  to  account  for  the  spread  of  Christianity  in  the 
ancient  world  by  natural  causes.  Crude  as  many  of  Hume's 
and  Gibbon's  explanations  now  appear,  they  in  some  measure 


EVANGELICAL  REVIVAL  189 

foreshadow  the  comparative  and  psychological  methods  now 
employed  in  the  study  of  the  history  of  religions. 

Since  the  time  of  Hume,  liberal  Protestants  have  defended 
Christianity  on  the  grounds  of  its  reasonableness  and  its  corrob- 
oration  by  the  experience  of  religious  people  of  the  dynamic 
power  of  Christ  in  their  lives.  So  far  as  they  have  continued 
to  defend  physical  miracles  and  miraculous  revelation  at  all, 
it  has  been  as  corollaries  from  the  general  standpoint  of  liberal 
Christian  doctrines ;  and  it  is  probable  that  belief  in  neither 
would  today  be  insisted  upon  by  any  liberal  Protestant  minister 
as  a  necessary  qualification  for  lay  membership  in  his  church. 
What  is  regarded  as  more  important  for  church  membership 
is  faith  in  God,  and  some  personal  experience  of  the  dynamic 
power  of  Jesus  Christ  in  one's  life. 

The  permanent  contributions  of  the  Enlightenment  to  the 
progress  of  religion  were  tolerance  and  intellectual  honesty, 
and  the  elimination  of  superstitions  like  witchcraft.  There 
must  be  utmost  freedom  of  discussion  in  religion,  and  what  in 
it  is  true  will  stand  fearless  analysis.  The  immediate  influence 
of  the  movement,  however,  was  destructive  rather  than  construc- 
tive. It  tended  to  undermine  faith  in  the  religious  belief  of  the 
times  without  offering  anything  in  its  place.  Its  influence  was 
chiefly  confined  to  the  more  highly  educated  classes,  and  it 
hardly  reached  the  masses  of  the  people  anywhere. 

VI — The  Evangelical  Movement 

It  was  probably  inevitable  that  the  Enlightenment  should 
have  lacked  religious  fervor.  The  religious  wars  on  the  Conti- 
nent and  the  Puritan  disorders  in  England  during  the  seven- 
teenth century  led  the  men  of  the  early  eighteenth  century  to 
regard  all  religious  emotionalism  with  stern  disfavor.  Deep 
religious  feelings  appeared  inevitably  to  result  in  bigotry  and 
fanaticism,  and  attempts  to  impose  one's  religion  forcibly  upon 
others.  So  even  divines  in  the  churches  vigorously  denounced 
the  wickedness  and  folly  of  "enthusiasm,"  4.  Tolerance  could 
only  come  with  clear  thinking,  and  men  cannot  think  clearly 
when  their  emotions  are  unduly  aroused.  A  period  of  religious 
apathy  was  probably  necessary  until  the  spirit  of  toleration 
might  become  established;  but  it  can  only  be  defended  as  a 
temporary  necessity  in  a  time  of  transition,  5. 

Many  of  the  intellectual  classes  in  England  had  become 
indifferent  to  religion  by  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  of  the. 


190  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

eighteenth  century.  Even  ministers  preached  coldly  intellectual 
sermons  on  the  moral  virtues,  which  lacked  the  dynamic  warmth 
and  power  of  Christianity  at  its  best.  Large  numbers  of  the 
poorer  classes  were  not  reached  by  the  churches  at  all.  Their 
moral  condition  was  wretched;  their  amusements  were  coarse; 
drunkenness  was  the  chronic  condition  of  many. 

In  1729  a  little  club  of  students  was  formed  at  Oxford  of 
which  John  Wesley  (fl791),  his  brother  Charles  (f!788),  and 
George  Whitefield  (fl770)  afterwards  became  famous.  They 
were  nicknamed  the  "Methodists"  from  their  systematic  culti- 
vation of  religious  practices.  They  visited  the  prisoners  in 
jails,  which  then  were  in  a  frightful  condition,  and  did  what 
other  philanthropic  work  they  could.  The  Wesley  brothers 
and  Whitefield  presently  went  upon  missionary  tours  to 
America.  Each  of  the  Wesleys,  under  Moravian  influence,  exper- 
ienced "conversions"  of  the  extreme  type  (see  Chapter  XV). 
They  became  convinced  that  this  was  the  normal  mode  of 
becoming  Christians.  The  Wesleys  developed  the  methods  of 
evangelicalism  (so  called  because  persons  were  "converted  to  the 
Gospel")  and  perfected  a  technique  of  revivalism.  The  Wes- 
leyan  movement  began  and  long  remained  within  the  Church 
of  England ;  but  as  time  went  on  and  the  societies  of  Wesleyan 
converts  multiplied,  it  became  difficult  to  obtain  ordained 
clergymen  to  administer  the  sacraments  to  them  all,  particu- 
larly in  America.  So  John  Wesley  and  his  friend,  Thomas 
Cokel  (f  1814)  though  only  Anglican  priests,  assumed  the  role 
of  bishops  and  ordained  clergymen  for  America  in  1784.  They 
thus  broke  with  the  Church  of  England,  and  Methodism  has 
ever  since  been  an  independent  denomination  in  both  countries. 
The  revival  methods  were  effective  in  converting  many  people 
who  could  not  have  been  reached  by  any  other  means  then 
available.  The  organization  of  the  Methodist  churches  con- 
tinues to  be  very  effective  for  reaching  large  numbers  of  people 
in  mass  movements,  and  the  spirit  of  the  denomination  has 
always  been  extremely  simple  and  democratic.  More  Protes- 
tants today  in  the  United  States  belong  to  the  Methodist 
denominations  than  to  any  other  group. 

The  evangelical  movement  was  by  no  means  confined  to  those 
who  ultimately  formed  the  Methodist  church.  The  evangelical 
methods  were  imitated  in  a  more  conservative  manner  by  minis- 
ters who  remained  within  the  Church  of  England.  They  were 
also  copied  by  the  various  dissenting  denominations — Baptists, 


PHILOSOPHICAL  MOVEMENTS  191 

Congregationalists  and  Presbyterians.  These  three  denomina- 
tions made  wide  use  of  them  in  America,  where  most  accessions 
to  Protestant  non-ritualistic  churches  were  long  chiefly  made 
in  this  manner. 

The  evangelical  movement  though  little  interested  in  theo- 
logical questions,  was  none  the  less  conservative.  It  did  not  go 
beyond  Locke  in  radicalism.  It  insisted  on  literal  acceptance 
of  scriptural  passages ;  among  Methodists  and  Disciples  it  was 
ultra  Protestant  in  believing  that  any  layman  can  sufficiently 
interpret  and  understand  the  Bible  for  his  needs.  Evangelical 
ministers  even,  especially  in  America,  often  possessed  more  piety 
than  erudition.  The  destructive  criticism  of  the  Enlightenment 
was  little  understood,  and  intolerantly  denounced  as 
"infidelity" ;  Puritan  opinions  on  the  wrongfulness  of  dancing, 
theater  going,  card  playing,  and  all  Sunday  amusements  were 
retained. 

With  all  its  limitations,  however,  evangelicism  probably 
saved  the  day  for  Protestantism  in  England  and  America  in 
the  eighteenth  century.  The  viewpoints  of  earlier  Protes- 
tantism were  no  longer  appealing  to  the  masses ;  the  Enlighten- 
ment was  weakening  the  hold  of  religion  on  the  intellectual 
classes.  A  simple,  popular  emotional  movement  was  a  necessity 
of  the  age.  Similar  movements  occurred  in  the  Protestant 
portions  of  continental  Europe,  and  began  even  earlier  with  the 
rise  of  such  sects  as  the  Pietists  and  Moravians. 

VII — Constructive  Tendencies  in  Philosophy 

The  influence  of  science  and  philosophy  upon  religion  during 
the  Enlightenment,  as  we  have  seen,  was  clarifying  and 
promoted  tolerance,  but  lacked  warmth  and  devotion.  The 
evangelical  movement  rekindled  the  fires  of  devotion,  but  was 
reactionary  from  an  intellectual  standpoint.  The  problem  of 
liberal  Protestantism  ever  since,  therefore,  has  been  how  to 
gain  light  and  heat  at  the  same  time,  how  to  face  the  truth 
with  Enlightenment  candor  and  yet  to  conserve  evangelical 
fervor.  Various  philosophical  movements  have  helped  to  solve 
the  problem.  These  can  here  only  briefly  be  sketched. 

The  Enlightenment  view  of  religion  itself  proved  capable  of 
acquiring  warmth  during  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  This  is  notably  true  in  the  case  of  Rousseau  (tl778), 
who  represents  the  transition  from  the  Enlightenment  to  the 


192  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

Romantic  movement.  Though  Rousseau's  "Confession  of  the 
Savoyard  Vicar"  in  Emile  is  a  form  of  Deism  not  greatly 
different  from  the  views  of  Voltaire,  it  is  set  forth  with  fervor 
that  showed  that  liberal  religious  views  can  be  expressions  of 
the  heart  as  well  as  the  head  and  so  have  dynamic  power. 

In  reaction  against  the  skepticism  of  Hume,  there  appeared 
in  Scotland  the  philosophy  of  "common  sense,"  or  "intuition- 
ism,"  which  maintained  that  intellectual  and  moral  principles 
disclosed  by  introspection  must  be  true  and  correspond  to  real 
objects  in  the  outer  world.  This  philosophy  was  not  profound, 
but  it  appeared  to  be  sensible,  and  seemed  to  place  moral  and 
religious  principles  on  a  solid  foundation.  It  was  more 
intellectual  and  tolerant  than  evangelicalism,  but  did  not  antag- 
onize it.  It  was  long  the  prevailing  philosophy  in  Scotland, 
and  America.  Among  its  most  noted  Scottish  exponents  were 
Thomas  Reid  (f!796),  founder  of  the  movement;  Dugald 
Stewart  (f!828)  and  Thomas  Brown  (fl820).  In  the  United 
States,  the  names  of  James  McCosh  (fl894)  and  Noah  Porter 
(f!892)  are  still  remembered.  This  form  of  philosophy  has 
now  been  generally  superseded. 

The  Romantic  movement  in  literature  and  art  had  as  one  of 
its  phases  a  revival  of  interest  in  the  Middle  Ages.  The  poetry 
of  Scott  and  Tennyson  and  the  pre-Raphaelite  school  of  art 
are  illustrations  of  this  tendency.  Conservatives  in  the  Church 
of  England  became  alarmed  at  the  rapid  spread  of  destructive 
Enlightenment  conceptions,  as  well  as  the  increase  in  numbers 
and  influence  of  non-conformists,  the  gain  in  political  power 
of  the  laboring  classes  and  the  increasing  strength  of  democ- 
racy and  other  disturbing  tendencies  of  the  times.  Aesthetic 
charm  and  fear  of  innovations  thus  combined  to  attract 
Anglicans  of  a  certain  type  to  the  rites  and  beliefs  of  the 
English  church  in  pre-reformation  times.  A  few  of  the  more 
extreme  participants  in  this,  which  is  known  as  the  "Oxford 
Movement"  under  the  leadership  of  John  Henry  Newman 
(f!890)  became  adherents  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
which  gained  new  vitality  in  England,  and  has  been  growing 
there  ever  since.  The  others, — notably  John  Keble  (fl866) 
and  Edward  Bouverie  Pusey  (f!882) — remained  within  the 
Church  of  England,  of  which  they  and  their  successors  have  been 
the  High  Church  or  Anglo-Catholic  party.  They  have  done 
much  to  beautify  the  ritual  of  the  Church,  and  have  been  active 
in  helping  the  poor  and  neglected  classes  and  in  bringing  them 


PHILOSOPHICAL  MOVEMENTS  193 

into  active  communion  with  the  Church.  They  have  to  some 
extent  revived  Catholic  usages,  such  as  penance  and  confession. 
A  similar  movement  has  been  going  on  in  the  American 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church.  In  the  matter  of  enrichment  of 
church  worship — but  not  in  doctrine  and  discipline — the  non- 
ritualistic  denominations  of  Great  Britain  and  America  have 
followed  this  movement  at  a  distance.  Organs,  chants,  stained 
glass  windows,  written  prayers,  responsive  readings,  recitations 
of  creeds,  and  various  other  embellishments  of  worship  that 
would  have  been  condemned  by  our  Puritan  and  evangelical 
fathers  as  popish  and  unscriptural  have  been  found  to  be  not 
only  aesthetically  pleasing,  but  also  spiritually  helpful. 

More  constructive  on  the  intellectual  side  have  been  the 
movements  in  philosophy,  theology,  and  historical  criticism, 
which  had  their  origin  in  Germany  and  at  first  appeared  disin- 
tegrating, but  now  seem  to  liberals  to  have  put  Protestant 
Christianity  on  firmer  ground  than  it  ever  stood  before. 

Immanuel  Kant  (f!804)  is  usually  believed  by  philosophers 
to  have  shown  that  intellectual  demonstrations  of  the  ultimate 
character  of  the  universe,  the  existence  of  God,  the  freedom  of 
the  will,  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  are  impossible.  The 
world  as  we  experience  it  in  space  and  time,  subject  to  the  laws 
of  mathematics  and  physics,  has  no  place  for  such  conceptions. 
But  the  world  of  science  is  not  the  whole  world.  It  is,  in  fact, 
in  a  profound  sense,  the  construction  of  our  own  minds;  and 
what  the  world  may  appear  to  be  to  minds  differently  consti- 
tuted than  we,  is  unknowable  to  us.  However,  the  world  in 
itself  may  very  well  be  a  world  in  which  God,  freedom  and 
immortality  prevail.  This  is  at  least  a  theoretical  possibility. 
But  much  more  than  this  can  be  said.  The  principles  of 
morality,  which  are  self-evident  when  morality  is  subjected  to 
rational  criticism,  and  which  are  presupposed  in  all  our  judg- 
ments of  right  and  wrong,  imply  our  presence  in  a  world  of 
freedom,  immortality  and  God.  Thus  what  on  merely  intel- 
lectual grounds  remains  uncertain  though  possible  must  on 
moral  grounds  be  assumed  to  be  true.  Thus  Kant  has,  as  he 
said,  "destroyed  [intellectually  certain]  knowledge  to  make 
room  for  faith"  (based  on  moral  experience  and  logical 
reasoning.)  Tennyson's  philosophy  of  religion  is  very  largely 
Kantian  in  spirit  and  so,  in  less  measure,  are  those  of  Words- 
worth and  Coleridge.  Through  them  Anglo-Saxon  Protestants 


194  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

have  probably  assimilated  more  of  Kant  than  through  study 
of  him  directly. 

J.  G.  Fichte  (f!814)  who  began  as  an  ardent  disciple  of 
Kant,  but  subsequently  developed  an  idealistic  system  of  his 
own,  in  which  knowledge  of  the  moral  nature  of  the  universe 
and  the  existence  of  God  are  more  positively  affirmed,  has 
exercised  a  considerable  influence  on  literary  men  in  England 
and  America,  especially  Carlyle  and  Emerson,  and  through 
them,  upon  religious  thinkers. 

G.  W.  F.  Hegel  (fl831)  taught  that  the  universe  is  the 
expression  of  the  Absolute  (usually  interpreted  as  God) 
through  struggle  and  effort  in  accordance  with  logical  prin< 
ciples.  God  thus  comes  to  self-expression  in  the  various  stages 
of  the  world  order.  The  duty  of  finite  beings  is  to  realize  their 
relationship  to  God ;  this  is  religion.  Every  religion  is  in  some 
measure  an  attempt  to  gain  this  relationship,  and  is  true  in 
some  degree ;  Christianity  is  the  most  complete  religion.  In  all 
religions  the  Absolute  is  presented  figuratively  and  sym- 
bolically ;  philosophy  furnishes  a  more  adequate  interpretation 
for  intellectual  purposes.  Hegel's  philosophy  had  considerable 
influence  on  some  of  the  German  theological  scholars  of  the 
next  generation,  by  reason  of  its  suggestion  that  all  religions, 
including  Christianity,  are  subject  to  laws  of  development  that 
are  logical  and  rational.  He  also  has  bad  large  influence  on 
philosophy  in  England  and  America,  where  the  neo-Hegelians 
were  in  the  great  majority  for  the  last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  and  where  they  still  exert  wide  influence.  The  Hegelian 
philosophy  is  not  easily  susceptible  of  literary  expression ;  but 
the  poetry  of  Robert  Browning  is  largely  Hegelian  in  its  point 
of  view,  and  has  had  wide  influence  on  ministers,  and  through 
them  on  their  congregations,  7. 

Most  important  of  all  in  his  influence  on  Protestant  theology 
is  Friedrich  D.  E.  Schleiermacher  (f!834).  He  took  much 
from  the  other  great  German  philosophers  and,  being  as  a 
minister  and  professor  of  theology  primarily  interested  in 
religion  as  they  were  not,  his  adaptation  of  German  idealism 
to  the  requirements  of  religion  is  more  satisfactory.  God  is 
absolute  and  eternal,  but  immanent  in  the  world;  man  in  his 
finitude  and  mortality  is  dependent  on  Him.  Man  in  all 
religions  seeks  and  partially  succeeds  in  finding  union  with 
God.  The  Christian  religion  is  most  successful  in  this  endeavor. 
In  Christ  is  effected  the  union  between  the  temporal  and  the 


RECENT  PROTESTANTISM  195 

eternal,  between  God  and  man,  and  through  him  it  is  imparted 
to  others.  Doctrines  are  intellectual  attempts  to  state  more 
fundamental  religious  truths  and  experiences;  they  may 
continue  to  change  from  time  to  time,  and  at  most  are  of 
secondary  importance.  Religion  is  an  aid  to  the  moral  life, 
which  involves  man  in  social  relationships. 

Out  of  the  earlier  German  idealistic  philosophy  grew  the 
critical  interpretation  of  the  development  of  the  Bible  and  of 
the  origin  and  growth  of  Christianity  which  have,  for  those 
who  accept  it,  revolutionized  the  whole  Protestant  position.  The 
truth  of  religion  no  longer  is  believed  to  rest  on  any  absolute 
authority — not  even  an  infallible  Bible.  God  is  revealed  to 
men  in  the  Bible  and  in  the  life  and  personality  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  He  guides  all  who  in  churches  worship  Him  in  spirit  and 
in  truth.  The  religious  experience  of  the  individual  verifies 
for  him  in  his  own  life  the  faith  of  his  fellow  Christians.  No 
doctrines  are  unchangeable  dogmas.  With  increasing  insight 
afforded  by  the  sciences  a  broader  view  of  the  world  is  made 
accessible  to  man,  and  larger  religious  conceptions  will  interpret 
this  world  so  that  men  in  it  may  be  of  service  to  the  Christ. 

VIII — Recent  Tendencies  in  Protestantism 

As  a  result  of  the  Enlightenment,  Socinianism  took  new  form 
and  vigor  in  England,  and  became  known  as  Unitarianism, 
largely  under  the  influence  of  Theophilus  Lindsey  (+1808)  and 
Joseph  Priestley  (f!804).  Unitarians  reject  the  doctrines  of 
the  Trinity,  the  deity  of  Christ,  and  usually  also  miracles,  and 
all  that  appears  unscientific  or  irrational.  The  movement 
spread  to  New  England,  where  its  first  great  protagonist  was 
William  Ellery  Channing  (fl847).  In  opposition  to  the 
rigorous  and  unfeeling  view  of  the  relation  between  God  and 
man  for  which  the  older  New  England  Calvinism  had  stood,  the 
American  Unitarians  have  insisted  on  the  moral  greatness  of 
man.  Through  good  men,  chief  among  whom  is  Jesus,  we  come 
to  know  God.  They  have  no  declaration  of  faith  that  is  binding 
upon  their  members,  but  a  statement  that  is  popular  among 
them  affirms  belief  in  "The  Fatherhood  of  God ;  the  Brotherhood 
of  man ;  the  Leadership  of  Jesus ;  salvation  by  character ;  the 
progress  of  mankind  onward  and  upward  forever." 

Though  too  highly  intellectual  to  appeal  to  the  masses,  and 
always  an  extremely  small  denomination  numerically,  American 
Unitarianism  has  included  within  its  membership  a  great  many 


196  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

literary  men,  statesmen,  philanthropists,  and  leaders  of  social 
movements.  Among  these  are  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow, 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  James  Russell 
Lowell,  William  Cullen  Bryant,  Bayard  Taylor,  Nathaniel 
Hawthorne,  Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson,  William  D. 
Howells,  Bret  Harte,  George  Bancroft,  William  H.  Prescott, 
John  L.  Motley,  Francis  Parkman,  John  Marshall,  Daniel 
Webster,  Charles  Sumner,  Horace  Mann,  and  Peter  Cooper. 
Four  presidents  of  the  United  States  have  been  Unitarians 
(John  Adams,  John  Quincy  Adams,  Millard  Fillmore,  and 
William  H.  Taft),  while  Thomas  Jefferson  advocated  Uni- 
tarianism,  and  Abraham  Lincoln's  religious  views  appear  to 
have  been  essentially  Unitarian.  Among  famous  Unitarian 
women  may  be  mentioned  Margaret  Fuller,  Julia  Ward  Howe, 
Louisa  M.  Alcott,  Elizabeth  Cady  Stanton,  Susan  B.  Anthony, 
and  Dorothea  Dix. 

The  chief  service  of  Unitarianism  to  religious  progress 
has  been  its  criticism  of  orthodox  beliefs.  The  conserva- 
tive Protestant  denominations,  in  order  to  meet  the  Unitarian 
challenge,  have  been  forced  to  become  more  tolerant  and  liberal. 
They  have  learned  to  recognize  the  love  of  God  as  much  as  His 
justice,  the  moral  worth  and  possibilities  of  man  as  much  as 
his  sinfulness,  and  to  reconcile  their  beliefs  with  the  rapid 
strides  of  modern  science.  The  consequence  is,  that  the  advance 
of  liberal  views  no  longer  gives  rise  to  new  Protestant  denomina- 
tions, but  to  new  movements  in  the  older  organizations. 

Two  such  movements  deserve  special  notice.  Within  the 
Church  of  England  and  the  American  Episcopal  Church  there 
have  been  a  considerable  number  of  <ebroad  churchmen"  in 
each  generation  since  the  movement  was  initiated  in  the  middle 
of  the  nineteenth  century  by  Frederick  William  Robertson 
(f!853),  Charles  Kinsrsley  (f!875),  Alfred  Tennyson  (f!892) 
and  others.  Great  influence  at  the  present  time  in  the  English 
Church  is  exercised  by  the  group  of  liberal  thinkers  who  under 
the  leadership  of  Canon  B.  H.  Streeter  have  issued  a  series  of 
suggestive  books  of  which  Foundations  and  Concerning  Immor- 
tality are  perhaps  among  the  best  known.  Among  American 
broad  churchmen  Phillips  Brooks  (fl893)  has  probably  had 
widest  influence. 

Another  movement,  notable  in  the  advance  of  liberal 
Protestantism  in  this  country,  arose  in  the  Congregational 
Church  under  the  leadership  of  Dr.  William  Jewett  Tucker  and 


RECENT  PROTESTANTISM  197 

other  professors  of  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  who  advo- 
cated "progressive  orthodoxy,"  from  1885  to  1892.  They 
succeeded  in  establishing  that  progress  in  theological  beliefs 
may  take  place  within  a  traditionally  orthodox  Protestant 
denomination,  8. 

Within  the  other  great  Protestant  denominations  toleration 
for  liberal  thinkers  has  generally  been  won.  It  is  probably  safe 
to  say,  that  in  all  of  the  larger  Protestant  churches  today  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  of  the  oldest  and  most  conservative 
ministers,  a  clergyman  will  gladly  welcome  into  the  communion 
of  his  church  any  person  of  good  moral  character  and  ideals 
who  desires  fellowship  in  that  congregation  and  who  seeks  to 
make  Jesus  effective  in  his  own  life,  be  his  theological  beliefs 
whatever  they  may. 

Protestant  churches  are  today  awake  to  moral  and  social 
problems  to  a  lively  degree.  Never,  perhaps,  since  the  Reforma- 
tion, have  Protestants  felt  so  keenly  that  Christianity  ought 
to  touch  and  uplift  every  aspect  of  social,  political,  and  private 
life;  that,  to  express  the  matter  in  the  terminology  of  this 
book,  all  the  socially  recognized  values  of  the  modern  world 
should  be  conserved  through  Christian  effort  reinforced  by  the 
dynamic  power  of  God  as  revealed  in  Jesus  Christ. 

REFERENCES 

•WILLISTON   WALKER,   History   of   the   Christian  Church. 

*GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE,  History  of  Religions,  Vol.  II. 

*EDWARD  WASHBURN  HOPKINS,  History  of  Religions,  Chapter  XXIV. 

Roman  Catholic: — 

*Catechi#m  of  Christian  Doctrine,  ordered  by  Third  Plenary  Council  of 
Baltimore.     (A  leaflet  for  elementary  instruction.) 
*H.  B.  COXON,  Roman  Catholicism  (The  "People's  Books"). 
*  JAMES  CARDINAL  GIBBONS,  The  Faith  of  the  Fathers. 
J.  H.  NEWMAN,  The  Development  of  Christian  Doctrine.    Apologia  pro 
vita  Sua. 

THOMAS  AQUINAS,  Summa  (translated  by  English  Dominicans). 
CARDINAL  MERCIER,  Manual  of  Modern  Scholastic  Philosophy. 
The    Catholic    Cyclopaedia;    Articles    by    Roman    Catholic    writers    in 
Hastings'  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics. 

Modernists: — 

GEORGE  TYRELL,  Christianity  at  the  Cross  Roads. 
*Letters  to  His  Holiness,  Pius  X,  by  an  American  Modernist. 
*PATJL  SABATIER,  Modernism. 

Protestant: — 
MARTIN  LUTHER,  Works. 
*C.  A.  BUCHHEIM,  Luther's  Primary  Works. 
JOHN  CALVIN,  Works,  especially  the  Institutes. 
JAMES  ARMINIUS,  Works. 
GEORGE  P.  FISHER,  A   History  of  Christian  Doctrine. 


198  MODERN  CHRISTIANITY 

*A.  C.  McGiFFEHT,  Protestant  Thought  Before  Kant.    The  Rise  of  Mod- 
ern Religious  Ideas. 

E.  C.  MOORE,  Christian  Thought  Since  Kant. 

*ADOLF  HAHNACK,  What  is  Christianity?    History  of  Dogma. 
W.  E.  H.  LECKY,  History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century. 
W.  H.  HITTTON,  The  English  Church  (from  Charles  I  to  Anne). 
J.  H.  OVER-TON,  The  English  Church  (from  George  I  to  end  of  XVIII 
century).     The  Evangelical  Revival.     The  Anglican  Revival. 
R.  W.  CLARK,  The  Oxford  Movement. 

WILLISTON  WALKER,   The  Creeds  and  Platforms   of  Congregationalism. 
HENRY  C.  VEDDER,  A  Short  History  of  the  Baptists   (including  Ana- 
baptists). 

ABEL  STEVENS,  History  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 
CHARLES  A.  BRIGGS,  American  Presbyterianism,  Its  Origin  and  Early 
History. 

The  Constitution  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  the   United  States  of 
America. 

American  Church  History  Series,  especially  Vol.  XIII,  by  L.  W.  Bacon, 
"A  History  of  American  Christianity." 

*Hastings'  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics. 
*THE  NEW  SCHAFP-HERZOG  Encyclopaedia  of  Religious  Knowledge. 
PHILIP  SCHAFF,  The  Creeds  of  Christendom. 

*Encyclopaedia  Americana   (for  American  religious  dene  linations  and 
movements). 

Philosophical : — 

W.  WINDELBAND,  History  of  Philosophy. 
H.  HOFFDING,  History  of  Modern  Philosophy. 

F.  THILLY,  History  of  Philosophy. 

*J.  G.  HIBBEN,  The  Philosophy  of  the  Enlightenment. 
LESLIE  STEPHEN,  History  of  English  Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century. 
L.  LEVY-BRUHL,  History  of  Modern  Philosophy  in  France. 
I.  WOODBRIDGE  RiLEY,  American  Philosophy  (The  Early  Schools). 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CHRISTIANITY  AND  THE  CONSERVATION  OF 
VALUES 

I — The  Values  Which  Christianity  Has  Conserved 
THE  great  ethical  service  which  Christianity  has  rendered 
has  been  in  the  deepening  of  moral  convictions,  in  making  the 
moral  life  a  concern  of  the  heart  as  well  as  of  the  head,  and  so 
imparting  dynamic  force  to  moral  principles.  The  means  by 
which  this  has  been  done  has  been  through  bringing  men  into 
contact  with  God  through  the  matchless  personality  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Already  in  the  synoptic  Gospels,  Jesus  is  presented  in  all  his 
simplicity  and  sublimity,  in  his  love,  faith,  courage,  sympathy, 
humor,  1,  and  above  all,  his  nearness  to  God,  and  his  ability  to 
impart  to  others  something  of  his  own  strength  and  insight. 
The  most  important  moral  point  in  these  Gospels  is  the  necessity 
for  ethical  inwardness,  £.  Sinfulness  has  its  roots  in  wrong 
desires  and  impulses ;  it  is  unbridled  anger  that  causes  murder, 
lustful  thoughts  and  looks  that  lead  to  adultery,  light  and  idle 
boasting  that  occasion  false  swearing  and  profanity.  One 
must  keep  his  heart  pure,  be  meek,  merciful,  humble  in  spirit, 
a  lover  of  peace  and  a  peace  maker;  he  should  fairly  hunger 
and  thirst  after  righteousness ;  he  should  love  his  enemies  and 
pray  for  them.  If  a  person  has  right  impulses  and  desires,  and 
if  the  sentiments  that  direct  their  expression  are  right,  his 
conduct  will  be  sure  to  be  right. 

Paul  and  the  writer  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  show  that  such 
ethical  inwardness  can  only  come  through  an  ethical  change  of 
heart,  3,  which  can  be  had  if  a  person  identifies  himself  in  mind 
and  spirit  with  Jesus  Christ.  "As  therefore  ye  received  Christ 
Jesus  the  Lord,  so  walk  in  him,  rooted  and  builded  up  in 
him,"  4.  For  Paul  the  essential  thing  is  to  be  "in  Christ,"  or 
to  have  Christ  formed  in  oneself,  5.  "Ye  must  be  born  anew,"  6. 
Jesus  is  reported  to  have  said  to  Nicodemus,  while  he  tells  the 
women  of  Samaria,  "Whosoever  drinketh  of  the  water  that  I 
shall  give  him  shall  never  thirst ;  but  the  water  that  I  shall  give 

199 


200  CHRISTIANITY  AND  VALUES 

him  shall  become  in  him  a  well  of  water  springing  up  unto 
eternal  life,"  7.  Later  on  in  this,  the  Fourth  Gospel,  Jesus  is 
the  true  vine,  in  whom  the  believer  must  abide,  in  order  to  be 
fruitful  in  the  Christian  life,  8,  and  Jesus  prays  that  his  follow- 
ers may  all  be  one  in  him  and  God  the  Father,  9. 

Ethical  inwardness,  then,  is  the  supreme  Christian  value;  to 
attain  it  involves  some  sort  of  ethical  change  of  life;  and  this 
can  be  gained  through  the  personality  of  Jesus  Christ.  That 
this  is  the  central  contribution  of  Christianity  to  the  moral 
advancement  of  Europe  cannot  too  much  be  emphasized.  Men 
knew  what  was  right  and  wrong  before  Christianity  came ;  but 
the  old  religions  had  failed  to  afford  the  Gentile  world  dynamic 
power  upon  which  to  draw  for  strength  and  resolution  in 
putting  this  knowledge  into  practice.  The  Jews  gained  this 
dynamic  power  through  their  religion;  but  not  in  a  manner 
suited  to  the  needs  of  Gentiles.  Christianity  supplied  this  want 
for  the  Gentile  world,  and  it  has  been  supplying  it  ever  since. 

In  both  the  synoptic  Gospels  and  the  Pauline  epistles,  the 
social  character  of  religion  is  recognized.  In  the  former  the 
"kingdom  of  heaven"  is  a  phrase  constantly  upon  the  lips  of 
Jesus,  which,  whatever  else  he  meant  by  it,  implied  the  associa- 
tion of  believers  for  mutual  helpfulness  in  their  religious  life ; 
in  the  latter,  this  association  has  already  become  embodied  in 
an  institution, — the  Church.  The  private  experience  of  the 
individual  and  the  common  experience  of  the  Church  for 
securing  and  imparting  the  dynamic  power  of  Jesus  are  both 
fundamental  notes  in  Christianity. 

In  what  particular  respects  has  the  moral  life  of  the  peoples 
of  western  Europe  and  America  been  bettered  by  the  conserva- 
tion of  values  through  the  Christian  religion?  In  nearly  all 
respects.  Through  teaching  and  worship  in  Christian  churches, 
schools  and  homes,  each  generation  has  had  its  attention  called 
to  moral  values,  and  has  learned  in  worship  to  draw  on  God 
through  Christ  for  moral  reinforcement  and  consecration  in 
the  realization  of  these  values  in  life  and  conduct. 

However,  it  is  possible  to  indicate  some  details  in  which  the 
influence  of  Christianitv  has  been  especially  noteworthy. 

First,  it  has  stood  emr>haticallv  for  the  purification  of  home 
life,  and  of  the  relations  between  the  sexes.  In  the  ancient 
pagan  world  family  life  had  become  seriouslv  demoralized.  It 
seems  almost  to  have  become  the  rule  rather  than  the  exception 
in  Rome  for  married  people  in  the  course  of  their  lives  to  divorce 


VALUES  CONSERVED  201 

and  remarry.  Among  the  Jews  in  the  first  century  a  man 
could  divorce  his  wife  for  the  most  trifling  causes.  Scarcely  any 
one  in  the  pre-Christian  world  regarded  continence  for  a  single 
man  and  fidelity  to  his  wife  for  a  married  man  as  moral  obliga- 
tions ;  the  "single  standard"  for  man  was  hardly  even  thought 
of.  Unnatural  sexual  relations  were  very  common  among 
Gentiles,  and  met  with  little  protest.  Christianity,  with  its 
respect  for  the  body  as  sacred — the  "temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost" 
in  Paul's  language — has  always  stood  resolutely  for  the  purifi- 
cation of  home  life,  and  for  either  great  diminution  of  divorces 
or  their  abolition  altogether.  It  has  brought  about  general 
moral  and  legal  condemnation  of  abortion,  infanticide,  and 
unnatural  sexual  relations,  and  has  made  measurable  progress 
in  the  effort  to  extirpate  these  practices.  It  has  made  chastity 
the  general  practice  of  womankind,  and  has  succeeded  in 
inducing  all  men  in  theory  to  recognize  it  as  a  moral  obligation, 
most  men  to  obey  this  moral  obligation  most  of  the  time,  and 
a  good  many  men  to  obey  it  all  of  their  lives.  Of  course  great 
reforms  yet  need  to  be  made  and  prostitution  is  still  the  scandal 
of  Christendom.  But  would  it  be  possible  to  discover  any  period 
in  the  history  of  any  non-Christian  Gentile  nation  that  has 
been  as  clean  in  sexual  morality  as  the  most  degraded  period 
in  the  history  of  any  Christian  nation? 

Secondly,  Christianity  has  been  zealous  in  all  forms  of 
humanitarianism.  From  ancient  times  it  has  been  active  in 
the  preaching  and  practice  of  private  charities  and  alms  giving, 
as  well  as  in  the  establishment  of  hospitals,  schools,  and  other 
benevolent  institutions.  The  monasteries  and  nunneries  largely 
did  this  work  during  the  Middle  Ages.  During  modern  times, 
especially  in  Protestant  countries,  where  the  church  income  was 
largely  confiscated  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation,  poor  relief 
and  other  benevolent  and  educational  activities  have  been 
largely  assumed  by  the  state;  but  Christian  sentiment  has 
supported  large  expenditures  of  public  money  for  such  pur- 
poses, and  Christian  philanthropy  has  done  much  to  meet  needs 
not  yet  provided  for  by  the  state.  The  support  for  social 
settlements  and  other  forms  of  private  secular  humanitarianism 
in  recent  times  has  always  chiefly  come  from  persons  who  owe 
their  philanthropic  sentiments  to  the  teaching  and  influence 
of  Christian  churches  and  homes. 

Thirdly,  Christianity  has  usually  stood  for  social  justice. 
To  be  sure,  this  is  not  true  of  the  early  Church — a  small  and 


202  CHRISTIANITY  AND  VALUES 

persecuted  sect  which  was  destitute  of  pecuniary  means  and 
political  influence;  and  which,  moreover,  supposed  that  the  end 
of  the  world  was  ahout  to  arrive.  Consequently  we  find  very 
little  thought  of  social  reform  in  this  world  expressed  in  the 
New  Testament  or  the  early  Fathers ;  love  rather  than  justice 
necessarily  had  to  be  their  theme.  But  when  Christians  gained 
control  in  the  Roman  Empire  they  mitigated  the  conditions 
of  slavery,  abolished  the  gladiatorial  combats,  effected  the 
codification  of  Roman  law,  and  recognized  the  moral  responsi- 
bility of  rulers  for  the  welfare  of  the  people.  During  the 
Middle  Ages,  chivalry  and  monasticism  were  agencies  of  social 
amelioration,  and  justice  was  recognized  by  the  school  men  as 
one  of  the  chief  virtues.  In  modern  times  the  churches  have 
usually  been  awake  to  the  necessity  of  reforming  the  social 
injustices  which  the  conscience  of  the  times  recognized  to  be 
such.  This  is  certainly  true  today.  Almost  all  Protestants, 
as  well  as  Catholics,  in  the  opening  years  of  the  twentieth 
century  are  keenly  interested  in  political  and  social  reforma- 
tion; in  fact,  the  present  danger  seems  rather  to  be  that 
concentration  on  these  questions  will  too  greatly  divert  atten- 
tion from  cultivation  of  the  spiritual  life,  which  after  all,  is 
the  chief  business  of  an  ethical  religion. 

It  sometimes  is  charged  against  Christianity  that  it  retarded 
the  growth  of  free  institutions  by  upholding  the  divine 
authority  of  rulers.  The  duty  to  obey  the  powers  that  be  as 
ordained  by  God  was  simply  common  sense  for  the  humble 
little  Christian  congregations  of  the  first  century.  By  the 
time,  certainly,  that  the  Christian  church  had  influence  in  the 
ancient  world,  the  imperial  authority  needed  and  usually 
deserved  the  sanction  of  religion;  moreover  churchmen  like  St. 
Chrysostom  and  St.  Ambrose  did  not  hesitate  to  rebuke  even 
emperors  when  they  did  wrong.  The  Middle  Ages  needed 
government  on  an  authoritative  basis ;  the  schoolmen  were 
right  so  far  as  their  political  philosophy  was  of  that  character. 
In  early  modern  times  the  Lutherans,  and  (owing  to  their 
Episcopal  institutions  which  had  taken  shape  under  monarchical 
conditions)  Roman  Catholics  and  Anglicans  sometimes  Avere 
political  reactionaries.  However,  Calvinists,  Arminians,  and 
Socinians,  at  any  rate,  were  consistent  fighters  for  political 
freedom,  and  Anglo-Saxon  liberty  owes  an  incalculable  debt 
to  them.  Grotius,  the  great  founder  of  international  law,  was 
influenced  by  all  three  of  the  sects  last  mentioned.  All  forms 


VALUES  CONSERVED  203 

of  occidental  Christianity  have  long  since  taken  the  side  of 
liberty. 

Another  charge  against  Christianity  is  that,  during  most 
of  its  history,  partly  as  an  outcome  of  teaching  contained  in 
the  New  Testament  itself,  10,  it  made  for  the  degradation  of 
woman.  She  lost  the  civil  rights  that  she  had  enjoyed  under 
the  Roman  empire,  and  only  regained  them  in  the  nineteenth 
century,  while  political  rights  have  only  come  to  her  during 
the  present  generation.  It  is  true  that  Paul,  like  most  Orien- 
tals, did  not  have  as  much  esteem  for  women  as  the  Romans 
of  his  generation.  This  was  not  true  of  Jesus,  whose  practical 
regard  and  consideration  of  women  and  their  devotion  to  him 
are  certainly  stronger  evidence  than  two  or  three  obscure  and 
probably  inaccurately  reported  gospel  passages,  or  the  fact 
that  he  never  married.  But  it  must  be  remembered  that  only 
Roman  married  women  enjoyed  any  civil  rights  under  the 
empire;  no  other  women  did.  And,  in  purifying  home  life,  and 
in  preaching  the  single  standard  to  men,  Christianity  did  much 
to  afford  to  woman  the  security  that  means  most  to  her  after 
all.  As  to  the  objection  that  ancient  and  modern  Roman 
Catholic  Christianity  taught  that  celibacy  is  a  more  perfect 
state  than  matrimony:  has  this  teaching  really  in  any  sense 
degraded  the  position  of  women?  If  a  woman  marry  she  is  in 
the  holy  and  sacramental  state  of  matrimony;  why  is  she 
degraded  if  other  women  choose  to  be  nuns?  There  have  been 
very  many  female  saints,  married  as  well  as  single,  and  the 
adoration  of  the  Mother  of  Jesus  has  done  much  to  foster 
respect  for  motherhood  in  general.  Think  of  the  Madonnas 
and  children  in  ecclesiastical  art ;  have  they  not  inevitably  had 
the  psychological  effect  of  making  people  regard  all  mothers 
and  their  little  children  with  tenderness  ?  Whether  the  interests 
of  humanity  are  better  served  in  the  modern  world  by  celibate 
orders  within  the  Christian  church  is  a  debatable  question  on 
which  Catholics  and  Protestants  will  probably  never  agree. 
But  the  value  of  convents  during  the  conditions  of  the  Middle 
Aiges  cannot  reasonably  be  questioned,  and  to  say  that  the 
presence  of  celibate  orders  has  ever  caused  married  women  in 
Christendom  not  to  be  respected  is  absurd,  11. 

There  are  two  criticisms  of  Christianity  as  a  conserver  of 
moral  values  that  have  more  foundation.  As  early  as  the  time 
of  St.  Jerome  and  St.  Augustine,  Christians  had  become  indif- 
ferent to  secular  learning,  believing  that  "the  wisdom  of  this 


204 

world  is  foolishness  with  God."  Even  in  modern  times  both 
Catholics  and  Protestants  have  fought  the  progress  of  the 
sciences  whenever  new  discoveries  have  threatened  the  security 
of  dogmas.  This  chapter  in  the  history  of  Christianity  has 
been  set  forth  in  Andrew  D.  White's  famous  History  of  the 
Warfare  Between  Science  and  Theology.  However,  as  is 
therein  pointed  out,  the  opposition  was  not  due  to  the  Christian 
religion  itself,  of  which  Mr.  White  was  a  loyal  adherent,  but 
to  theologians. 

The  other  criticism  is,  that  Christians  have  been  bitterly 
intolerant  of  one  another, — an  attitude  that  began  as  early 
as  the  epistle  of  Jude  and  culminated  in  the  horrors  of  the 
Spanish  Inquisition,  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholemew,  and  the 
persecutions  of  Catholics  in  England  by  Elizabeth  and  in 
Ireland  by  Cromwell  and  William  and  Mary.  In  mitigation  of 
this  indictment  it  can  be  said  that  such  persecutions  were 
chiefly  actuated  by  political  motives  and  were  the  work  of 
politicians  more  often  than  churchmen.  But  this  is  by  no  means 
a  complete  answer.  The  persecutions  were  not  wholly  the  work 
of  politicians ;  and,  even  if  they  had  been,  it  would  still  be 
necessary  for  Christian  apologists  to  explain  why  the  Christian 
faith  has  been  open  to  such  manipulation. 

The  intolerance  by  Christian  orthodoxy  of  scientific  and 
religious  differences  of  opinion  has  been  chiefly  due  to  what  was 
long  a  good  and  necessary  characteristic  of  the  religion.  Had 
Christianity  been  a  tolerant  religion  in  ancient  times,  it  would 
have  been  absorbed  by  the  pagan  mystery  religions.  Christians 
then  knew  no  way  to  preserve  the  purity  of  their  faith  and  make 
it  possible  for  it  to  perform  its  mission  except  by  refusing  to 
compromise  with,  or  even  to  tolerate,  rival  beliefs  and  practices. 
The  same  was  true  in  early  modern  times  in  the  case  of  the 
Roman  Catholics  and  the  various  Protestant  denominations. 

Christian  intolerance  was  due  to  confusion  of  thought.  The 
Enlightenment  inaugurated  clearer  thinking  and  made  it  pos- 
sible for  Christians  to  learn  to  be  more  tolerant  of  one  another 
and  of  scientific  research.  Today  the  victory  for  tolerance  is 
practically  complete.  It  is  probably  safe  to  predict  that  never 
again  will  any  religious  sect  in  the  Occident  suffer  persecution 
provided  it  preaches  and  practises  the  ordinary  standards  of 
moral  decency ;  and  that,  never  again,  will  scientific  scholarship 
in  any  field  of  investigation  meet  with  persecution  on  religious 
grounds,  12.  The  young  man  or  young  woman  of  today  need 


FUNCTION  205 

have  no  prejudice  against  any  form  of  Christianity  now  prom- 
inent in  the  United  States  on  the  question  of  tolerance. 

The  clearer  understanding  of  the  psychological  basis  of 
Christian  experience  which  has  now  been  attained  will  render 
intolerance  forever  impossible,  in  the  future.  The  intolerance 
of  the  past  was  always  due  to  a  confusion  between  means  and 
ends,  in  the  performance  of  the  function  of  the  religion. 

II — The  Function  of  the  Christian  Religion. 

This  leads  to  a  statement  of  what  the  function  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  psychologically  considered,  really  is,  and  has 
always  been ;  that  is,  to  set  before  men  the  matchless  personality 
of  Jesus  Christ,  a  personality  from  whom  men  may  gain  a  -fuller 
appreciation  of  moral  values,  and  a  reinforcement  of  their  wills 
so  that  they  may  be  able  to  realize  these  values  in  their  lives. 
The  whole  history  of  Christianity  may  be  interpreted  as  a 
record  of  the  different  ways  in  which  men  of  different  ages 
have  worshipped  God  through  Christ,  and  so  have  learned  to  live 
on  a  higher  spiritual  level.  To  live  on  this  level  is  the  expe- 
rience which  they  have  called  an  assurance  of  salvation  or 
redemption.  The  various  forms  of  Christian  worship — 
ritualistic  and  non-ritualistic — are  the  different  ways  in  which 
men  of  different  races  and  periods  have  sought  to  gain  this 
experience. 

Christian  intolerance  in  the  past  was  owing  to  the  failure 
to  realize  that  this  function  can  be  effectively  achieved  in 
different  ways — by  different  modes  of  worship,  by  different 
forms  of  ecclesiastical  organization  and  by  the  acceptance  of 
different  creeds.  Now  it  is  common  knowledge  that  primitive 
Christians,  Catholics  of  all  ages,  and  Protestants  of  all  types 
ranging  from  Episcopalians  to  Friends  in  ritual,  and  from 
Presbyterians  to  Unitarians  in  creed  and  ecclesiastical  organi- 
zation, all  are  able  by  their  own  methods  to  conserve  their 
socially  recognized  values  through  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  also 
common  knowledge  that  none  of  these  confessions  can  either 
demonstrate  the  absolute  infallibility  of  its  faith  for  modern 
conditions  or  that  it  is  either  the  original  or  the  metaphysically 
valid  form  of  Christianity.  For  if  demonstration  were  possible, 
after  all  these  centuries  of  research  and  controversy,  the  truth 
would  be  generally  agreed  upon.  So,  since  all  Christians  must 
walk  by  faith  and  not  by  demonstration,  and  since  they  all 


206  CHRISTIANITY  AND  VALUES 

gain  much  the  same  benefits  from  their  religion,  it  is  possible 
for  each  to  tolerate  the  rest. 

It  perhaps  hardly  needs  to  be  remarked  that  while  people  can 
get  the  benefits  of  the  Christian  experience  by  participating 
in  the  worship  of  various  churches,  that  no  one  can  have  an 
adequate  Christian  experience  unless  he  participates  in  one 
of  them.  There  is  this  much  truth  in  the  dogma  that  there  is 
no  salvation  out  of  the  church ;  no  one  can  obtain  and  preserve 
a  rich  Christian  experience  by  himself;  it  will  be  bound  to  be 
either  narrow,  shallow  or  transient — or  possibly  all — unless  he 
avails  himself  of  some  form  of  Christian  fellowship. 

It  is  not  of  course  asserted  that  the  values  recognized  by 
the  different  forms  of  Christianity  are  precisely  the  same  in 
all  respects.  These  have  varied  in  different  periods  of  history, 
according  to  the  development  of  civilization  and  the  recognized 
moral  standards  of  the  times.  To-day,  however,  in  America, 
it  is  beyond  question  that  all  prominent  Christian  churches 
recognize  the  important  moral  values  of  our  age,  and  that 
they  do  much  to  promote  ethical  inwardness  in  them  through 
the  dynamic  power  of  Jesus  Christ.  Any  man  or  woman  will 
be  happier  individually  and  more  useful  socially  by  becoming 
identified  with  one  of  them. 

Ill — Differences  Between  Christian  Denominations 

The  differences  in  values  recognized  and  in  the  means  by 
which  the  dynamic  power  of  Christ  is  rendered  available,  are 
greatest  between  Roman  Catholics  and  Protestants.  Modern 
Roman  Catholicism  emphasizes  loyalty  and  submissiveness  to 
authority;  it  is  doing  a  splendid  work  along  these  lines  in 
America  today — in  a  nation  and  an  age  altogether  too  unre- 
strained, impulsive  and  undisciplined.  Penance  and  confession 
insure,  so  far  as  is  possible,  that  an  individual  will  frankly 
acknowledge  his  wrong  doing,  and  profit  by  the  advice  of  an 
expert  in  the  direction  of  his  religious  life.  Roman  Catholic 
ritual  also  has  great  dignity  and  aesthetic  charm.  Protes- 
tantism, on  the  other  hand,  emphasizes  individual  initiative  and 
responsibility;  for  it  there  is  no  one  on  earth  who  can  forgive 
sins,  the  individual  at  his  own  risk  and  peril  must  make  his 
personal  confession  to  his  God.  This  develops  higher  stand- 
ards for  the  truly  conscientious  layman  than  an  authoritative 
church  can  well  impose  on  every  one;  there  are  no  works  of 
supererogation  for  the  Protestant,  no  one  can  possibly  do 


DENOMINATIONS  207 

more  than  his  duty  and  everyone  must  seek  God's  help  to  do 
that.  The  forms  of  public  worship,  while  less  beautiful,  are 
more  thought  provoking.  It  is  no  accident  that  Roman 
Catholicism  is  the  faith  of  the  more  artistically  gifted  peoples, 
and  Protestantism  of  the  more  intellectual  and  self-reliant  ones. 

The  Roman  Catholic  religion  is  liable  to  abuse  by  those  who 
are  not  sincere,  in  a  tendency  to  make  worship  more  a  matter 
of  routine  than  a  deep  inner  experience,  and  to  regard  penance 
as  complete  if  the  priest  is  satisfied ;  in  times  of  low  religious 
ideals  it  has  tended  to  degenerate  into  legalism  and  formalism. 
Protestantism  is  liable  to  abuse  by  the  insincere,  who,  since  they 
do  not  confess  to  a  priest,  experience  no  real  contrition  at  all, 
who  never  honestly  face  their  own  shortcomings  and  seek  to 
overcome  them,  and  whose  consciences  are  so  lax  that  very  low 
standards  of  conduct  seem  sufficient.  In  times  of  low  religious 
ideals,  Protestantism  has  sometimes  degenerated  into  an  arid 
intellectualism  as  in  Germany  and  England  in  the  first  half  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  At  other  times  it  has  degenerated 
into  an  effervescent  emotionalism,  in  which  people  "got 
religion"  in  revivals  without  its  having  any  lasting  effect  upon 
their  characters  or  bearing  any  discernible  relation  to  moral 
conduct.  The  conclusion  clearly  is,  that  an  intelligent  and 
sincere  seeker  after  a  larger  spiritual  life  can  find  it  in  either 
Roman  Catholic  or  Protestant  communions;  but  that  neither 
is  able  to  prevent  the  insincere  or  careless  from  failing  to  do 
so.  Neither  can  be  maintained  on  a  high  spiritual  level  except 
by  the  constant  efforts  of  its  gifted  and  devout  leaders,  who 
must  keep  in  close  touch  with  the  dynamic  power  of  Christ, 
and  who,  for  it,  are  "the  salt  of  the  earth." 

Roman  Catholicism  and  Protestantism  thus  contain  differ- 
ences in  their  conceptions  of  values  and  of  the  means  by  which 
they  are  conserved.  Each  is  strong  and  weak  on  a  different 
side.  Happy  is  that  country  where  both  are  represented  in 
large  numbers,  and  engaged  in  lively  but  tolerant  rivalry. 
Each  is  thus  stimulated  to  emulate  the  good  features  of  the 
other,  and  neither  can  become  decadent. 

The  differences  between  the  various  Protestant  confessions 
respecting  values  recognized  and  methods  by  which  the 
dynamic  power  of  Christ  is  made  available  in  conserving  them 
are  less  profound.  In  some  cases  they  are  indeed  genuine; 
the  silent  worship  of  the  Quaker,  the  spontaneity  of  the  Meth- 
odist, the  beautiful  liturgy  and  impressive  sacramentalism  of 


208  CHRISTIANITY  AND  VALUES 

the  Episcopalian,  and  the  intellectual  sermons  of  the  Congrega- 
tionalists,  the  Presbyterians  and  the  Unitarians,  though  all 
valuable  and  effective,  do  not  appeal  equally  to  persons  of 
different  native  temperaments  and  educational  environments. 
Protestants  undoubtedly  lose  much  in  effectiveness  by  being 
divided  into  a  multiplicity  of  sects.  In  small  places  many 
congregations  are  unable  to  employ  ministers  regularly,  and 
salaries  are  so  pitifully  small  that  talented  young  men  often 
refuse  to  go  into  the  ministry  or  to  remain  in  it.  Happily 
movements  toward  federation  of  Protestant  churches  are  pro- 
ceeding rapidly.  In  Canada  the  union  in  a  single  denomina- 
tion of  Presbyterians,  Methodists  and  Congregationalists  seems 
assured.  Various  denominations  are  uniting  in  Scotland.  No 
union  of  rival  denominations  on  so  large  a  scale  seems  likely 
to  occur  in  the  United  States  in  the  immediate  future,  but  the 
Protestant  denominations  are  learning  to  co-operate  for 
common  ends  through  the  Federation  of  the  Churches  in 
America,  the  Young  Men's  and  Young  Women's  Christian 
Associations,  the  Young  People's  Society  of  Christian 
Endeavor,  and  other  organizations.  How  far  Protestant 
denominations  should  permanently  remain  separate  depends  in 
the  last  analysis  upon  how  far  each  is  conserving  unique  values 
that  could  not  be  conserved  as  well  or  better  in  a  United  Pro- 
testant Church,  and  whether  these  values  really  outweigh  the 
price — in  the  narrower  range  of  outlook  and  the  more  restricted 
form  of  Christian  experience — which  sects  always  have  to  pay 
for  their  separateness.  The  ideal  would  be  the  reunion  of  all  the 
Protestant  denominations  into  a  single  church  in  which  none 
of  the  valuable  features  of  any  distinct  sect  would  be  lost,  but 
all  of  these  become  common  property.  In  view  of  the  extremely 
individualistic  and  divisive  tendencies  of  the  earlier  Protestant- 
ism this  ideal  might  appear  impossible ;  but  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  Protestantism  has  changed  its  characteristics  in 
considerable  measure  in  each  century,  and  what  would  have 
been  impossible  in  the  seventeenth  century  may  conceivably 
come  about  before  the  end  of  the  twentieth. 

IV — The  Finality  of  the  Christian  Religion 

In  the  religions  of  India,  Greece  and  Rome,  as  well  as  in 
Judaism  and  Christianity,  we  have  observed  large  agreement 
in  the  recognition  of  moral  values,  of  what  is  right  and  wrong. 
Truth  telling  and  keeping  of  contracts;  chastity;  temperance 


FINALITY  209 

in  food  and  drink;  control  of  temper  and  other  impulses; 
honesty  regarding  property ;  loyalty  to  kin,  friends,  and  fellow 
countrymen;  wisdom;  physical  and  moral  courage;  justice; 
reverence; — all  these  were  early  recognized  to  be  desirable. 
Differences  in  climate  and  other  features  of  the  physical  envir- 
onment as  well  as  in  race  psychology,  and  in  the  intellectual 
speculations  of  individual  thinkers  have  naturally  led  to  some 
differences  of  emphasis.  There  is  also  large  agreement  on 
more  spiritual  values : — calmness  of  mind  and  imperturbability ; 
recognition  of  all  mankind  as  having  something  in  common  with 
one  (such  as  Stoics  and  Christians  expressed  in  terms  of  divine 
fatherhood  and  human  brotherhood);  love  and  forgiveness; 
fidelity  to  duty;  a  clear  conscience;  and  communion  with  the 
supernatural  Agency  both  in  this  life  and  beyond  the  grave 
(differently  as  all  these  would  be  stated  in  the  languages  of 
the  different  religions).  To  be  sure,  ethical  values  were  more 
clearly  analyzed  and  stated  by  the  Greeks  than  any  of  the 
others.  But  to  a  surprisingly  large  extent  there  is  agreement 
on  what  values  should  be  sought. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  large  differences  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  Agency  conceived,  and  the  means  by  which  the  Agency 
is  to  be  made  effective.  Here,  too,  the  teaching  of  history  points 
fairly  clearly  in  one  direction.  The  Agency  must  both  be 
human,  anthropomorphic, — like  Yahweh  and  still  more  like 
Jesus — and  the  Agency  must  be  superhuman,  divine.  The 
Greek  and  Roman  attempts  to  effect  the  combination  are 
instructive  and  pitiful — neither  Dionysus  or  Orpheus,  nor 
foreign  importations  like  Attis,  Osiris,  and  Mithra,  nor  deified 
Roman  emperors,  answered.  None  were  human  enough,  nor 
good  enough,  to  effect  human  intimacy  and  to  incorporate  the 
values  sought.  Brahma  was  too  impersonal ;  and  every  other 
Hindu  deity,  like  the  old  Greek  gods,  embodied  too  many 
human  frailties.  Buddhism  in  its  original  form  was  too  nar- 
row, pessimistic  and  otherworldly,  in  the  range  of  moral  values 
that  it  recognized,  and  it  afforded  insufficient  aid  to  the  indi- 
vidual worshipper  in  his  endeavor  to  gain  them.  Yet  such  an 
Agency — at  once  human  and  divine — was  everywhere  sought. 

It  is  easy  to  be  prejudiced  in  favor  of  one's  own  religion. 
But  in  Christianity  have  we  not,  in  the  personality  of  Jesus 
Christ  such  an  Agency  as  all  the  other  religions  noticed 
(except  perhaps  modern  Judaism)  have  less  successfully 
sought?  Jesus  of  Nazareth  is  human,  thoroughly  human,  in 


210  CHRISTIANITY  AND  VALUES 

complete  contact  with  human  weaknesses  and  needs,  and  yet 
personally  free  from  guilt  and  sin,  so  that  he  can  stand  forth 
as  a  model  of  what  all  men  would  like  to  be,  and  so  can  gladly 
imitate.  In  order  to  accept  this  assertion,  the  reader  need 
not  be  orthodox.  The  orthodox  Christian  believes  that  Jesus 
Christ  was  absolutely  sinless,  and  that  in  Him  was  embodied 
every  human  perfection.  A  liberal  Christian  is  not  troubled 
by  alleged  imperfections  in  the  character  of  the  historic  Jesus, 
— that  he  was  inferior  to  Buddha  in  unruffled  serenity  of  spirit ; 
that  he  was  intolerant  in  his  attitude  toward  the  Pharisees  ;  that 
he  was  inferior  to  Socrates  in  his  appreciation  of  the  virtues 
of  citizenship  and  social  justice;  that  he  did  not  realize  so 
clearly  as  Buddha  and  Mohammed  the  harmfulness  of  all  indul- 
gence in  intoxicating  liquors;  that  he  overemphasized  the 
feminine  virtues ;  that  he  was  too  much  preoccupied  with  ideas 
of  a  supernatural  intervention  by  God  in  his  behalf  to  realize 
the  necessity  of  moral  and  social  evolution  in  this  world.  These 
and  other  criticisms  have  been  urged  against  Jesus.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  defend  Jesus  here.  These  charges  and  others 
have  been  fairly  considered  by  Dr.  Hastings  Rashdall,  to  whose 
Conscience  and  Christ  anyone  interested  is  referred.  Even  if 
all  such  criticisms  were  to  be  accepted  without  protest,  the 
character  of  Jesus  would  still  remain  superior  to  that  of  any 
other  historical  or  mythical  founder,  hero,  or  saint  of  any 
other  religion  known  to  man.  What  such  figure  does  not 
reveal  greater  faults?  It  therefore  follows  that  Christianity 
has  a  tremendous  advantage  over  its  rivals  in  the  personality 
of  its  Founder — who  more  fully  expresses  and  embodies  the 
moral  values  recognized  by  all  ethical  religions  than  any  other 
historical  or  mythological  personality,  13. 

For  this  reason  it  is  probably  safe  to  predict  that  through 
the  personality  of  Jesus,  Gentiles  will  in  the  future  chiefly  seek 
to  come  into  contact  with  the  divine.  Through  him  they  will 
secure  the  conservation  of  their  moral  values. 

It  can  be  frankly  admitted  that  other  religions  have  recog- 
nized a  few  values  more  adequately  than  Christianity  has  yet 
done.  That  has  always  been  true  of  Christianity.  From  the 
very  outset  it  has  had  to  assimilate  valuable  features  from  other 
religions.  It  got  most  of  its  theological  conceptions  from 
Greek  philosophy.  In  part  it  got  its  sacraments  and  much 
of  its  conception  of  divine  communion  from  the  ancient  mystery 
religions.  It  got  its  form  of  government  from  the  Roman 


FINALITY 

Empire.  Its  contact  with  the  Barbarians  taught  it  to  idealize 
relations  of  war  and  love  in  terms  of  chivalry,  romantic  love 
and  sacramental  marriage.  From  the  Jew,  it  still  has  to  learn 
to  appreciate  more  fully  family  loyalty  and  devotion,  and  from 
him  it  may  yet  be  able  to  borrow  the  Passover  as  a  sacrament 
of  family  worship,  modified  to  meet  modern  conditions.  From 
the  Confucian,  Christian  youth  must  learn  reverence  to  their 
elders, — a  virtue  sadly  lacking  in  Western  lands,  and  very 
inadequately  conserved  at  present  by  the  Christian  religion. 
From  Buddhism,  Christianity  probably  must  learn  to  find  the 
good  and  evil  consequences  of  conduct  automatically  working 
themselves  out  in  human  life  without  the  interposition  of  a 
theistic  God  external  to  life  itself;  although  in  assimilating 
this,  Christianity  must  not  lose  its  own  idea  of  atonement. 
From  Greek  philosophers  and  modern  life  Christianity  must 
learn  to  think  out  moral  problems  in  terms  of  citizenship, 
social  service,  and  democracy.  Its  very  God  must  cease  to  be 
a  king,  and  become  a  democrat.  But  all  these  and  other  lessons 
Christianity  will  be  able  to  learn  far  more  quickly  and  com- 
pletely than  any  of  its  rivals  can  do.  It  already  knows  more 
values  than  any  of  them.  In  the  personality  of  Jesus  Christ 
and  in  the  fellowship  of  the  Church  it  has  a  central  core  that 
is  sound  and  firm,  and  that  makes  possible  indefinite  assimila- 
tion and  growth.  It  has  for  nearly  twenty  centuries  been  the 
faith  of  most  of  the  progressive  and  forward  looking  nations ;  as 
their  civilizations  have  advanced,  organized  Christianity  has 
advanced  with  them,  and  though  not  without  defects,  it  has 
on  the  whole  been  the  strongest  factor  for  the  conservation  of 
their  recognized  moral  values,  14.  It  now  has  a  vast  heritage 
of  moral  insight  and  experience,  which  it  knows  how  to  pass 
down  to  succeeding  ages. 

Here,  too,  we  find  the  justification  for  Christian  missions. 
The  oriental  nations  and  the  nature  races  of  the  world  are 
rapidly  assimilating  occidental  civilization.  This  forces  upon 
them  a  multitude  of  moral  problems  with  which  their  own 
religions  are  unprepared  to  grapple.  It  therefore  is  the  duty 
of  Christian  nations  to  send  representatives  of  our  religion 
along  with  the  commercial  agents  who  introduce  to  them  our 
commodities,  and  the  financial  agents  who  seek  concessions  for 
the  exploitation  (in  a  good,  let  us  hope,  as  well  as  a  bad  sense) 
of  their  countries.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  nature  folk 
and  outcastes  will  be  greatly  benefited  by  becoming  Christians, 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  VALUES 

provided,  of  course,  that  Christianity  is  presented  in  a  simple 
form  to  them,  suited  to  their  understanding  and  needs.  Both 
in  the  recognition  of  values  and  in  the  means  for  conserving 
them  it  will  be  bound  10  raise  their  condition  immeasurably. 
It  is  less  certain  that  cultivated  adherents  of  the  higher 
religions  of  the  East  will  decide  to  abandon  their  own  faiths 
for  that  of  Christ.  But  even  if  they  should  determine  to 
persist  in  the  religions  of  their  fathers  they  will  need  to  learn 
much  from  the  experience  of  Christian  churches  in  order  to 
adapt  themselves  to  the  problems  which  Western  civilization 
is  forcing  upon  them.  It  is  therefore  our  duty  to  send  mission- 
aries to  them  in  order  to  give  them  the  opportunity,  either  to 
accept  Christianity  or  to  adopt  from  it  such  features  as  they 
need  for  the  adaptation  of  their  own  religions  to  new 
conditions. 

But  is  Christianity  ultimately  true?  In  a  strictly  meta- 
physical sense,  the  author  supposes  that  it  must  be  said  that 
no  religion  can  claim  ultimate  truth.  All  try  to  express  by 
means  of  symbols  what  is  infinite  and  unknowable,  as  well  as 
what  is  knowable,  but  has  not  yet  become  scientific  knowledge. 
But  the  symbols  of  Christianity  have  proved  their  adaptability 
to  twenty  centuries  of  more  varying  conditions  than  ever  con- 
fronted any  other  religion  (except  the  Jewish),  and  they  have 
grown  and  become  enriched  in  the  process.  It  seems 
safe  to  conclude,  therefore,  that  Christianity,  which  symbolizes 
more  truth  for  more  races  and  more  environments  than  any 
other,  is  the  closest  approximation  to  absolute  truth  which 
can  be  attained  by  the  mind  of  man  through  the  instrumen- 
tality of  a  religion.  With  the  experience  of  future  ages 
Christianity  will  become  further  advanced.  There  may  be 
greater  changes  in  future  doctrines,  ritual,  and  ecclesiastical 
organization  than  even  the  past  has  known.  We  can  feel  sure 
that  the  revelation  of  God  in  the  personality  of  Jesus  Christ, 
with  the  ever  enlarging  interpretations  which  the  succeeding 
generations  will  continue  to  give  to  it,  shall  continue  to  be  the 
means  through  which  men  will  endeavor  to  secure  the  conserva- 
tion of  their  socially  recognized  values. 

REFERENCES 

Christian  Ethics:— 

•HENRY  CHTJRCHIIX  KINO,  The  Ethics  of  Jesua. 
*GEORGE  HARRIS,  Moral  Evolution. 
*F.  A.  PEABODT,  Jesus  Christ  and  the  Social  Question. 


FINALITY  213 

*SHAILER  MATHEWS,  The   Social   Teachings  of  Jesus.     The  Church  and 
the  Changing  Order. 

•WALTER  RAUSCHENBUSCH,  Christianity  and  the  Social  Crisis. 

F.  PAULSEN,  System  of  Ethics,  Book  I,  Chapters  II-V. 

HASTINGS  RASHDALL,  The  Theory  of  Good  and  Evil.  Conscience  and 
Christ. 

Conservation  of  Values: — 
H.  HOFFDING,  Philosophy  of  Religion. 
IRVING  KING,  Development  of  Religion,  Chapter  XIII. 
*E.  S.  AMES,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  Part  IV. 
*G.  B.   FOSTER,  Function  of  Religion  in  Man's  Struggle  for  Existence. 
Finality  of  the  Christian  Religion. 

Federation: — 

*HENRY  C.  McCoMAS  The  Psychology  of  Religious  Sects. 
*CHARLES  S.  MCFARLAND,  The  Progress  of  Church  Federation. 
NEWMAN  SMYTH,  Passing  Protestantism  and  Coming  Catholicism. 

Modern  Liberal  Protestant  Christianity: — 
*EDWARD  S.  AMES,  The  New  Orthodoxy. 

*JAMES  H.  TUFTS,  "The  Test  of  Religion"  in  University  of  Chicago 
Sermons. 

*DURANT  DRAKE,  Problems  of  Religion,  Part  III.     Shall  We  Stand  by 
the  Church? 

*ADOLF  HARNACK,  What  is  Christianity? 

AUGUSTE  SABATIER,  Outlines  of  a  Philosophy  of  Religion.  Religions  of 
Authority. 

W.  ADAMS  BROWN,  Christian  Theology  in  Outline. 
JOSIAH   ROYCE,   The  Problem  of  Christianity. 

Christianity  and  Moral  Evolution: — 

W.  E.  H.  LECKY,  History  of  European  Morals,  Vol.  II. 
L.    T.    HOBHOUSE,     Morals    in    Evolution,     third    edition,    pp.    212-232; 
262-264;  300-304.;  312-317;  348-353;  499-526. 

EDWARD  WESTERMARCK,  Origin  and  Development  of  Moral  Ideas,  Vol.  I, 
pp.  345-371;  381;  411-417;  426-429;  615-618;  653-655.  Vol.  II,  pp.  99-108; 
133-136;  145;  178-181;  251-264;  280-289;  317,  f.;  345;  431-434;  439;  454  f.; 
480-483;  734-737. 

G.  E.    HOWARD,    A    History    of    Matrimonial    Institutions.    Chapters 
VII-IX,  XI. 


PART  II 

RELIGION  AND  THE  SELF 

CHAPTER  XIV 

PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS 
I — Introductory 

THE  supreme  concern  of  a  spiritual  religion  is  the  conserva- 
tion of  moral  values  in  human  personalities  through  a  religious 
agency.  In  the  course  of  a  man's  religious  experience  he  gains 
these  values,  and  makes  them  a  part  of  his  self,  through  what 
he  believes  to  be  divine  aid.  If  a  modern  man  were  to  give 
an  account  of  his  religious  experience,  this  would  be  sure  to 
include  a  description  of  the  manner  in  which  in  youth  he  came 
to  appreciate  personally  the  higher  moral  values  praised  by 
parents,  teachers,  clergymen  and  rabbis,  so  that  desire  for  them 
became  an  integral  part  of  character,  and  membership  in 
church  or  synagogue  a  real  privilege. 

The  first  business  of  the  psychology  of  contemporary  relig- 
ion is,  therefore,  to  explain  how,  through  the  development  of 
the  religious  sentiment,  such  an  enlargement  and  enrichment 
of  the  self  takes  place,  ordinarily  in  the  years  of  adolescence, 
in  connection  with  the  worship  of  God  and  the  fellowship  of 
the  church.  (Chapter  XV').  A  related  problem  will  be  the 
interpretation  of  Prayer,  the  process  by  which  individuals  and 
groups  seek  aid  from  and  communion  with  God,  whom  they 
believe  to  be  the  supreme  Agency  through  whom  such  con- 
servation of  socially  recognized  values  is  afforded.  (Chapter 
XVI).  A  third  topic  will  be  the  analysis  of  Mysticism,  a  name 
applied  to  the  procedure  and  experience  of  persons  who  seek, 
and  as  they  at  least  believe,  succeed  in  obtaining  consciousness 
of  the  divine  presence.  (Chapter  XVII).  Preliminary  to  all  of 
these  psychological  interpretations,  however,  it  will  be  needful 
to  refresh  the  reader's  memory  regarding  certain  psychological 
conceptions.  To  this  task  the  present  chapter  will  be  devoted,  1. 

214 


THE  SUBCONSCIOUS  215 

II — The  Subconscious 

Before  attempting  a  definition  of  the  Subconscious,  it  will 
be  convenient  to  give  some  illustrations.  Many  persons  are 
able,  if  they  fix  the  idea  in  their  minds,  when  they  retire  at 
night,  that  they  are  going  to  arise  at  a  certain  hour  in  the 
morning,  to  awaken  at  precisely  that  hour.  All  of  us  like 
to  defer  making  an  immediate  decision  upon  matters  of  some 
consequence  that  are  suddenly  proposed  to  us ;  we  say  that 
we  will  "sleep  over  the  matter,  and  decide  to-morrow."  When 
the  following  day  arrives,  we  often  find,  though  we  have 
given  the  question  little  or  no  conscious  attention,  in  the  mean- 
time, that  we  clearly  perceive  the  merits  of  the  case,  and  that 
our  minds  are  fully  decided.  A  student  often  finds  that  a  theo- 
rem or  a  paradigm  scanned  just  before  retiring  will  be  perfect- 
ly recalled  on  awakening  in  the  morning,  and  that  a 
few  moments  then  spent  in  fixing  it  in  the  memory 
will  assure  permanent  mastery  of  it.  A  person  may 
meet  someone  on  the  street  whose  face  is  familiar, 
whose  name  he  cannot  recall;  without  further  thought, 
the  forgotten  name  may  suddenly  flash  into  his  con- 
sciousness a  few  hours  later.  A  public  speaker  may  agree  to 
deliver  an  address  upon  some  subject  two  weeks  hence.  Though 
able  to  give  the  matter  little  or  no  attention  in  the  meantime, 
when  the  occasion  arrives  he  delivers  "extemporaneously"  an 
excellent  speech.  Yet  he  would  not  have  been  able  to  speak 
at  all  effectively  if  he  had  not  had  the  fortnight's  notice.  Rom- 
ances sometimes  turn  on  the  point  that  the  heroine  does  not 
know  her  own  mind;  she  really  loves  the  hero,  as  is  perfectly 
obvious  to  the  reader,  but  she  is  unaware  of  the  fact,  and  all 
sorts  of  difficulties  ensue;  until  some  crucial  situation  reveals 
her  love  to  herself,  and  she  and  her  lover  are  happy  ever 
after. 

Cases  that  at  least  border  on  the  pathological  are  still  more 
striking.  A  person  sees  in  a  crystal  incidents  that  he  had 
completely  forgotten,  and  only  the  evidence  furnished  by  others 
can  convince  him  that  he  has  recalled  facts  that  he  once  knew, 
and  that  the  crystal  has  not  been  a  source  of  supernatural 
or  miraculous  information.  In  a  similar  fashion,  a  person's  hand 
may  automatically  write  down  incidents  that  were  once  known 
but  cannot  be  recalled  by  conscious  effort.  In  dreams  or  in 
visions  facts  forgotten  by  the  waking  consciousness  may  be 
brought  to  light.  Severe  nervous  disorders,  extreme  phobias 


216 

even,  have  been  reported  in  which  the  patient  is  quite  unaware 
of  having  been  frightened,  but  which  the  psychiatrist  is  able, 
through  the  employment  of  abstraction  or  hypnotism,  or 
through  study  of  the  patient's  dreams,  to  trace  to  some  for- 
gotten shock,  often  of  a  really  trifling  character, — a  fact  which 
the  patient  often  needs  only  to  realize  consciously,  in  order 
to  be  put  well  on  the  road  to  recovery. 

We  all  know  that  at  the  time  when  a  particular  object  is  in 
the  center  of  our  attention,  we  are  more  or  less  dimly  aware  of 
the  presence  of  various  other  objects.  When  absorbed  in  an 
interesting  lecture,  a  student  does  not  attend  to  the  sounds 
coming  in  from  the  open  window,  or  from  the  next  room,  nor 
the  sensations  of  bodily  contact  with  his  chair;  and  yet  if 
asked,  he  would  often  be  able  to  recall,  as  a  matter  of  conscious 
memory,  that  he  had  previously  been  aware  of  these  circum- 
stances. Dr.  Morton  Prince  believes  that  perceptions  of  the 
environment  which  have  never  even  entered  the  fringe  of  con- 
sciousness, of  which  the  individual  has  never  even  dimly  been 
aware,  may  be  retained  and  recalled.  Certain  of  his  patients 
remember  through  hypnosis,  and  automatic  writing,  paragraphs 
in  newspapers  which  they  must  have  read  in  casual  glances 
without  being  aware  that  they  were  reading  them,  2. 

Now  for  the  interpretation  of  such  cases,  and  a  definition 
of  the  Subconscious.  The  evidence  is  overwhelming,  and  so 
far  as  the  author  is  aware,  all  psychologists  now  concede,  that 
neural  processes  go  in  the  brain  and  other  nerve  centers  that 
are  unattended  by  consciousness  at  the  time,  but  which  either 
then  or  later  may  affect  the  contents  of  consciousness.  Neural 
processes  of  some  kind  must  have  been  taking  place  while  the 
person  was  asleep  in  order  to  ensure  his  awaking  at  a  certain 
hour,  and  his  mastery  of  the  theorems  or  paradigms ;  the  brain 
must  have  been  active  to  effect  the  recall  of  the  forgotten  name 
while  the  person's  attention  was  upon  other  topics ;  the  forgot- 
ten experiences  seen  in  the  crystal  must  have  been  in  some  way 
registered  in  the  tissues  of  the  brain. 

We  are  now  ready  for  a  definition.  By  the  term  subcon- 
scious, as  it  will  be  employed  in  this  book,  will  be  meant  those 
brain  or  other  neural  processes  which  are  not  attended  by 
consciousness,  but  which  modify  the  contents  of  consciousness. 
If  these  neural  processes  had  been  attended  by  consciousness 
while  they  were  taking  place,  they  would  be  typical  instances 
of  perception,  imagination,  memory,  reasoning,  volition,  etc.; 


THE  SUBCONSCIOUS  217 

but  they  were  not  so  attended,  and  so  they  are  styled  subcon- 
scious. 

A  disputed  question  is,  whether  or  not  some  subconscious  pro- 
cesses, using  the  term  as  just  defined,  are  accompanied  by 
mental  processes  of  which  consciousness  is  at  the  time  unaware. 
Such  subconscious  processes,  with  both  neural  and  mental  sides, 
would  be  co-conscious.  It  seems  to  many  psychologists  and 
psychiatrists  that  mental  processes  of  this  sort  do  take  place. 
Instances  of  alternating  personality,  in  particular,  suggest  such 
an  hypothesis.  For  instance  in  Morton  Prince's  famous  case, 
reported  in  The  Dissociation  of  a  Personality  a  young  woman 
called  Miss  Beauchamp,  feels  unaccountable  impulses  to  take  a 
walk  on  a  rainy  day,  and  to  do  various  other  things  that  she 
does  not  wish  to  do,  but  is  compelled  to  perform  in  order  to 
regain  her  peace  of  mind.  When  the  lady  was  hypnotized,  a 
personality  called  "Sally"  emerged.  Sally  averred  that  she  had 
wanted  to  take  the  walk,  and  to  do  the  other  things,  and  accord- 
ingly had  put  these  ideas  into  Miss  Beauchamp's  consciousness. 
The  simplest  explanation  of  such  phenomena,  apparently,  would 
be  to  take  Sally  at  her  word,  and  to  assume  that  she  existed  in 
the  mind  of  Miss  Beauchamp  as  a  co-conscious  personality  when 
Miss  Beauchamp  felt  these  unaccountable  impulses.  If  we  reject 
the  hypothesis  of  the  co-conscious  we  must  assume  that  purely 
neural  processes  unattended  by  mental  process  of  any  kind 
impelled  Miss  Beauchamp,  and  that,  afterwards,  in  the  hyp- 
notic state,  these  neural  processes  produced  conscious  states 
called  Sally ;  but  that  there  was  no  mental  Sally  in  existence  at 
the  time  that  Miss  Beauchamp  took  the  walk.  If  we  accept  the 
doctrine  of  the  co-conscious  to  explain  pathological  cases  like 
Sally,  it  is  but  another  step,  and  seemingly  a  reasonable  one, 
to  assume  the  presence  of  the  co-conscious  in  normal  human 
beings,  whenever  novel  results  appear  in  consciousness  that  are 
not  the  outcome  of  previous  conscious  mental  processes.  We 
need  not  suppose  that  such  co-conscious  processes  would  become 
organized  into  a  separate  and  competing  personality,  except 
under  abnormal  conditions.  Co-conscious  processes,  however, 
would  be  believed  to  exist  in  normal  human  minds,  in  subordina- 
tion to  the  self,  and  to  be  of  service  to  it  in  working  out  problems 
for  which  conscious  attention  cannot  always  be  spared,  as  in  the 
illustrations  of  the  public  speaker,  the  student,  and  the  person 
who  has  forgotten  a  name,  or  who  defers  his  decision  upon 
some  matter  until  the  following  day. 


218  PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS 

The  chief  arguments  against  the  assumption  of  co-conscious 
processes  are:  (1)  we  are  not  aware  of  them,  therefore  they  are 
mere  assumptions,  and  it  is  scientifically  more  conservative  not 
to  assume  them;  (2)  while  the  continued  existence  of  our  brains 
and  nervous  systems  along  with  the  external  world  is  certain, 
mental  life  is  often  arrested  by  sleep  and  in  other  ways,  and 
there  is  no  sufficient  reason  for  assuming  its  continued  exist- 
ence. In  favor  of  the  theory  of  the  co-consciousness,  it  is  often 
urged:  (1)  it  is  thoroughly  scientific  to  assume  the  existence 
of  something  not  directly  perceived  when  to  do  so  offers  the 
simplest  explanation  of  what  we  do  perceive  (just  as  physicists 
assume  the  existence  of  atoms,  ether,  electrons,  etc.,  though 
these  never  can  be  perceived  by  anyone)  ;  (2)  unless  we  assume 
that  mental  life  is  parallel  with  the  nervous  system  we  shall 
have  to  assume  that  neural  activity  actually  calls  into  existence 
states  of  consciousness  that  are  utterly  different  in  character. 
As  consciousness  is  not  a  form  of  energy,  to  assume  this  would 
appear  to  violate  the  law  of  the  conservation  of  energy.  The 
whole  question  of  the  relation  between  mind  and  matter  thus 
becomes  involved  in  the  dispute  over  the  existence  of  the  co- 
consciousness.  There  is  no  need  for  the  reader  of  this  book 
to  decide  whether  or  not  he  shall  accept  the  doctrine  of  co-con- 
scious mental  processes.  In  any  event,  there  are  subconscious 
neural  processes,  (understanding  "subconscious"  as  it  has  been 
defined  above)  and  these  processes  frequently  modify  the  con- 
tents of  consciousness,  either  at  the  time  or  later  on,  3. 

Ill — Instincts 

No  baby,  of  course,  brings  into  the  world  a  fully  developed 
personality.  The  infant  consciousness  for  the  first  few  weeks 
consists  of  sensations  and  feelings.  We  can  very  well  accept 
James'  characterization  of  it  as  a  "blooming,  buzzing  con- 
fusion" if  we  remember  that  this  describes  it  as  it  would  seem 
to  us  if  we  could  enter  into  the  baby's  mind  and  observe  its 
contents.  The  very  little  baby  itself  does  not  know  that  its 
mind  is  a  confusion ;  it  would  be  more  accurate  to  compare  the 
infant's  mental  state  to  homogeneous  and  undifferentiated  pro- 
toplasm, which  later  on  will  develop  into  distinguishable  struc- 
tures and  processes.  In  due  course,  certainly  before  the  fourth 
year  is  over,  nearly  all  of  the  great  racial  impulses  make  their 
appearance.  During  cJiildhood  (from  four  to  ten)  and  adol- 
escence (from  eleven  to  twenty)  the  more  important  of  these 


INSTINCTS  219 

impulses — the  principal  primary  instincts  and  emotions  and 
the  innate  non-specific  tendencies  to  action — become  organized 
into  sentiments,  and  these  sentiments  become  more  systematized, 
harmonious  and  stable,  so  that  the  individual  acquires  a  definite 
character  and  personality  of  his  own.  Primary  teachers  will 
testify  that  even  little  boys  and  girls  of  five  or  six  have  per- 
sonalities of  their  own,  each  different  from  the  others.  How- 
ever, great  enrichments  of  personality  come  during  later  child- 
hood and  adolescence,  and  these  are  of  chief  consequence  for  the 
psychology  of  religion. 

Let  us  take  notice  of  the  nature  of  these  great  racial  impulses, 
and  of  the  sentiments  to  which  they  give  rise. 

The  principal  primary  instincts,  common  to  man  and  the 
higher  mammals,  and  each  with  its  distinct  mental  pathology, 
include  fear,  anger,  curiosity,  tenderness,  gregariousness, 
acquisitiveness,  constructiveness,  hunger,  disgust,  self-assertive- 
ness,  self-abasement,  sex,  and  perhaps  a  few  others,  4.  All  of 
these,  except  sex,  make  their  first  appearance  in  infancy.  All 
become  greatly  widened  in  their  scope  during  adolescence.  Each 
is  psycho-physical,  i.  e.  it  has  a  mental  and  a  physical  side. 

The  physical  side  consists  of  co-ordinations  in  the  brain  and 
central  nervous  and  sympathetic  systems  which  are  inherited 
and  which  persist  throughout  life,  though  subject  to  certain 
modifications  on  the  afferent  and  efferent  sides.  When  stimu- 
lated, the  instinct,  either  consciously  or  subconsciously  is  set 
into  activity.  At  other  times  the  instinct  exists  on  the  physical 
side,  as  a  tendency  or  disposition  to  certain  forms  of  activity. 
Our  eyes  exist  as  organic  structures,  not  only  when  they  are 
functioning  in  vision,  but  also  when  they  are  closed  and  asleep. 
A  better  analogy  would  be  that  of  a  habit.  Habits  are  believed 
to  be  co-ordinations  of  brain  cells  that  exist  both  when  one  is 
performing  the  habit  and  when  one  is  not  acting  upon  it. 
Indeed,  habits  are  nourished  and  grow  to  some  extent  even  when 
they  are  not  being  exercised.  So  it  has  been  said  that  we  learn 
to  skate  in  summer  and  to  swim  in  winter.  An  instinct  is  not  a 
separate  organ  in  the  brain,  as  an  eye  is  an  organ ;  like  a  habit, 
it  is  a  functional  unit,  an  organization  of  nerve  cells  in  a  certain 
way  so  that  in  the  future  they  will  react  toward  stimulation  as 
they  have  in  the  past.  Habits,  however,  are  not  inherited 
co-ordinations;  they  are  acquired  during  the  individual's  life- 
time. Instincts,  on  the  contrary,  are  inherited.  Man  has  the 


220  PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS 

same  instincts  as  the  mammals  most  related  to  him.  Every 
human  being  possesses  the  same  instincts  as  any  other.  Indivi- 
duals differ  as  to  the  relative  strength  of  different  instincts ;  but 
it  is  doubtful  if  even  idiots  lack  any  of  the  instincts  altogether, 
and  nobody  possesses  a  different  instinct  from  those  of  his 
fellow  men. 

When  an  instinct  is  in  conscious  activity,  it  is  also  in  part 
mental.  Conscious  fear  is  not  only  a  state  of  the  brain  and 
nervous  system,  it  is  a  conscious  emotion,  normally  prompted 
by  a  consciously  perceived  object,  and  normally  attended  by 
a  conscious  impulse  to  action  of  some  sort.  That  is,  the  con- 
sciously operative  instinct  involves  the  knowing,  feeling  and 
willing'  sides  of  the  human  mind,  or  more  technically,  the  cogni- 
tive, affective,  and  conative  sides. 

Instincts  sometimes  are  sub-consciously  active.  The  instincts 
of  sex  and  tender  emotion  are  operative  when  a  person  is  in 
love  without  knowing  it.  An  angry  person  often  does  not  at 
the  time  know  that  he  is  angry.  Pathological  fears,  as  has 
been  said,  sometimes  cause  serious  mental  and  bodily  experi- 
ence although  the  patient  is  consciously  unaware  of  this  exist- 
ence. When  an  instinct  is  sub-consciously  active,  has  it  a  mental 
side?  Are  subconscious  emotions  of  sex,  tenderness,  anger, 
and  fear  co-conscious?  Or  are  they  exclusively  physiological? 
This  is  a  disputed  question.  And  when  an  instinct  is  inactive, 
and  persists  only  as  a  disposition,  is  it  then  purely  an  affair  of 
tendencies  in  the  nerve  cells,  or  is  it  also  a  psychical  disposition? 
We  need  not  decide.  All  that  the  reader  is  asked  to  believe  is 
that  an  instinct  is  a  part  of  our  bodily  constitutions  which 
exists,  both  when  it  is  in  either  conscious  or  subconscious  activ- 
ity and  also  when  it  is  in  quiescence.  At  least  when  in  con- 
scious activity,  the  instinct  also  has  a  psychical  side.  It  may 
therefore  be  regarded  as  an  innate  psycho-physical  disposition. 

IV — Habits  and  Sentiments 

Modifications  of  instincts,  often  take  place,  and  constitute 
habits.  A  most  important  form  of  habit  is  the  Sentiment.  A 
sentiment  is  an  organization  of  instinctive  tendencies  in 
response  to  a  given  object  that  calls  them  into  activity.  A 
stray  dog  may  evoke  a  momentary  caress,  or  a  bit  of  food, 
and  be  speedily  forgotten.  This  is  an  instance  in  which  an 
instinct  (tender  emotion)  has  been  aroused.  This  instinct 
may  be  momentarily  aroused  many  times  in  the  course  of  a 


SENTIMENTS 

day  in  the  case  of  anyone  who  is  fond  of  animals.  But  suppose 
the  same  dog  attracts  the  notice  of  such  a  person  frequently 
and  is  repeatedly  caressed  by  him.  Ere  the  person  realizes  it, 
the  dog  will  have  permanently  established  itself  in  his  affec- 
tions and  become  a  pet ;  to  feel  tender  emotion  toward  this 
particular  animal  will  have  become  a  habit.  Manifestations 
of  this  habit  of  tenderness  toward  the  pet  dog  will  thereafter 
be  accompanied  by  additional  emotions.  One  feels  anger  if  a 
larger  dog  annoys  one's  own  dog;  one  feels  curiosity  to  know 
the  dog's  tastes,  and  self-assertion  in  exhibiting  his  accomplish- 
ments, self-abasement  (or  even  shame)  if  the  dog  sometime 
exhibits  the  traits  of  a  cur.  A  youth's  attention  is  called  to 
many  pretty  faces  in  the  course  of  a  day;  for  sex  is  a  readily 
aroused  instinct.  But  suppose  one  particular  face  comes 
habitually  to  evoke  the  youth's  attention.  Ere  he  knows  it,  a 
habit  of  feeling  attracted  to  this  particular  girl  has  been  estab- 
lished. Tender  emotion  is  at  once  added  to  sex  attraction, 
and  in  various  ways  most  of  the  other  emotions  become  or- 
ganized in  the  system  of  this  sentiment.  This  one  girl  is  the  only 
one  (while  the  sentiment  lasts)  that  can  powerfully  arouse 
these  emotions  in  him.  He  is  in  love.  The  formation  of  senti- 
ments of  hate  are  similar  in  principle,  beginning  with  habitual 
anger  toward  some  particular  object.  Sentiments  of  respect 
are  also  likewise  formed,  with  self  assertion  and  self  abasement 
as  the  central  nuclei  instead  of  tender  emotion,  sex,  or  anger. 
Sentiments  of  love,  hate  and  respect  are  formed  toward  indi- 
vidual objects  (a  dog,  a  woman,  a  man,  one's  self)  or  classes  of 
objects  (dogs,  or  children,  or  pretty  girls;  or  German  Junkers; 
or  excellent  men  in  general)  or  abstract  conceptions  (liberty, 
justice,  science,  truth,  God). 

While  the  sentiment  is  a  kind  of  habit,  it  will  be  observed 
that  sentiments  differ  very  materially  from  other  habits.  Many 
habits  are  easily  acquired,  and,  if  not  so  readily  broken  as 
formed,  they  are,  at  any  rate,  far  more  easily  broken  than 
sentiments.  Many  habits  are  performed  automatically,  their 
chief  function  being  to  economize  attention  and  afford 
efficiency — for  instance,  learning  to  put  on  one's  clothes,  to  hold 
one's  knife  and  fork,  to  write,  and,  later  in  life,  to  drive  a  motor 
car  or  operate  a  typewriter.  There  are  even  said  to  be  persons 
who  have  acquired  the  capacity  to  select  food  and  eating  uten- 
sils at  a  cafeteria  without  awkwardness !  In  contrast  to  such 
habits,  a  deepseated  sentiment  is  a  fundamental  organization 


222  PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS 

of  many  of  one's  deepest  feelings  and  impulses  about  objects 
of  supreme  value  to  him.  The  various  sentiments,  taken  to- 
gether, constitute  the  character  of  a  man.  If  we  can  ascer- 
tain what  a  man  loves,  hates,  and  respects,  we  know  what 
sort  of  a  man  he  really  is. 

V — The  Religious  Sentiment 

The  presence  of  religion  of  some  sort,  as  we  have  seen  in 
Part  I,  is  universal  among  the  races  of  mankind.  Following 
loose,  popular  usage,  ministers  are  perhaps  justified  in  speak- 
ing of  a  "religious  instinct."  Has  it  not  become  traditional 
to  say  that  man  differs  from  animals  in  his  ability  to  use 
language,  make  tools,  and  employ  a  religion?  However,  in 
the  more  strictly  scientific  sense,  it  cannot  be  said  that  man 
possesses  a  religious  instinct  similar  to  fear,  anger,  curiosity 
and  the  others.  Nor  has  he  a  religious  tendency  of  the  innate 
non-specific  type,  like  play,  imitation,  sympathy  and  sugges- 
tion. We  cannot  even  credit  him  with  an  innate  tendency  toward 
religion  in  the  vaguer  sense  in  which  it  might  perhaps  be  main- 
tained that  there  are  such  tendencies  toward  art,  morality 
and  science.  For  beauty,  goodness  and  truth,  after  all,  are 
fairly  specific  values.  As  Part  I  has  taught  us,  religion  has 
endeavored  to  conserve  all  sorts  of  values ;  it  has  no  very 
specific  and  characteristic  value  of  its  own,  as  have  art,  moral- 
ity and  science. 

On  the  other  hand  it  is  equally  inaccurate  to  say  that  the 
religious  impulse  in  man  is  merely  an  ordinary  habit  or  attitude 
formed  in  response  to  the  environment.  The  striking  fact  that 
all  races,  and  the  majority  of  individual  men  of  all  races,  have 
found  religion  an  indispensable  mode  of  conserving  their  socially 
recognized  values,  indicates  that  there  is  something  about 
religion  that  makes  it  an  inevitable  mode  of  expression  of 
human  nature.  What,  then,  is  the  religious  impulse,  since  it 
is  neither  an  innate  tendency  nor  an  ordinary  acquired  habit? 
The  answer  is,  it  is  a  sentiment. 

The  religious  sentiment  has  for  its  primary  object,  the 
Agency  through  which  the  conservation  of  socially  recognized 
values  is  sought.  For  the  civilized  European  and  American 
this  Agency  is  God.  Associated  with  God,  develop  subsidiary 
objects,  dependent  for  their  sanction,  upon  Him.  Such  sub- 
sidiary objects,  for  the  Christian,  are  Jesus,  the  Bible,  the 
Church,  the  Sacraments,  and  also,  for  Roman  Catholics,  the 


THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

Blessed  Virgin  Mary  and  the  saints.  Other  subsidiary  objects 
exist  for  the  Jew,  such  as  the  Law,  the  synagogue,  the  feasts, 
fasts,  and  other  sacred  days  and  observances.  For  the  civil- 
ized European  and  American,  the  primary  instincts  and  emo- 
tions directed  toward  God  and  the  subsidiary  objects 
of  the  religious  sentiment  include  tender  emotion,  fear,  intellec- 
tual curiosity,  and  gregariousness.  The  last  manifests  itself 
in  the  desires  for  divine  companionship  and  for  sociability  with 
one's  fellow  communicants.  The  non-specific  tendencies, — 
imitation,  suggestion  and  sympathy, — also  obviously  contribute 
to  the  strengthening  of  the  sentiment,  since  child  and 
youth  desire  to  act,  feel,  and  think  as  their  elders  do.  Complex 
emotions  are  present  in  the  worship  of  God, — particularly,  as 
Professor  McDougall  thinks,  admiration,  awe,  gratitude,  and 
reverence.  Among  other  sentiments,  that  of  love  is  certainly 
of  great  importance.  As  conservation  of  the  higher  moral 
values  is  sought  through  God,  all  the  emotions  and  sentiments 
connected  with  them  also  unite  with  the  religious  sentiment. 
Among  these  would  be  included  the  sentiments  felt  toward  good- 
ness, purity  of  heart,  wisdom,  self-control,  physical  and  moral 
courage,  justice,  and  all  the  other  virtues  to  which  one  aspires. 
Impulses  connected  with  the  desire  for  forgiveness  of  sins  and 
the  eradication  from  one's  personality  of  all  that  is  morally 
painful  to  contemplate,  also  enter  into  this  sentiment. 

The  religious  sentiment,  therefore,  includes  within  its  system 
a  very  large  number  of  the  strongest  impulses  that  a  man  has. 
If  his  childhood  and  early  adolescence  are  passed  in  religious 
surroundings,  an  individual  is  likely  to  learn  to  seek  the  con- 
servation of  the  values  attached  to  all  the  impulses,  just  enum- 
erated, through  the  objects  of  the  religious  sentiment.  Under 
these  circumstances  the  sentiment  has  a  rapid  and  extensive 
development  in  the  mind  of  an  individual  and  becomes  one,  at 
least,  of  the  strongest  in  his  personality.  The  religious  senti- 
ment has  its  origin  in  childhood,  in  the  simple  teachings  of  home 
and  Sunday  school.  It  receives  a  considerable  enlargement  dur- 
ing adolescence,  as  an  outcome  of  modifications  that  come  in 
part  subconsciously.  Later  the  youth  experiences  a  religious 
awakening,  and  enters  into  conscious  possession  of  this  enlarged 
sentiment. 

VI — The  Innate  but  Non-Specific  Tendencies 
Man  is  a  gregarious  animal.     In  consequence  of  this  fact, 


PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS 

each  of  his  instincts  is  liable  to  be  called  into  operation  if  the 
corresponding  instincts  of  other  human  beings  about  him  have 
been  aroused.  The  degree  to  which  this  is  true  varies  with  dif- 
ferent individuals,  some  being  more  susceptible  to  the  social 
environment  than  others.  Some  instincts  like  fear,  anger,  sex, 
and  curiosity,  are  more  susceptible  to  such  influences  than 
weaker  instincts.  Not  every  manifestation  of  an  instinct  serves 
to  effect  its  arousal  in  other  individuals.  A  sheep  is  frightened 
if  other  sheep  are  frightened  ;  it  does  not  scratch  its  ear  because 
others  do,  5.  A  college  student  is  aroused  to  joy  or  sorrow  as 
those  about  him  feel  these  emotions  in  connection  with  athletic 
prospects ;  the  sight  of  other  students  absorbed  in  study  does 
not  so  invariably  produce  in  him  a  consuming  thirst  for  knowl- 
edge. 

This  principle  is  responsible  for  the  innate  non-specific  emo- 
tional tendencies,  so  called  because  the  mode  of  behavior  which 
they  express  is  more  variable  and  less  specific  than  is  the  case 
with  instincts.  These  are  suggestion,  sympathy,  imitation,  and 
play.  The  first  three  of  these  are  extremely  closely  related. 

Suggestion  is  the  tendency  for  a  man  to  accept  as  his  own 
o'pinion  some  idea  simply  because  it  has  been  conveyed  to  him 
by  another  person,  "without  any  critical,  logical  examination  on 
his  own  part  of  the  evidence  for  and  against  it.  The  idea  may 
be  true,  or  it  may  be  false ;  the  person  who  influences  him  to 
believe  it  may  actually  hold  it  himself  or  be  duping  him;  but 
the  man  adopts  the  idea  without  exercising  his  independent 
judgment  upon  it.  Man  is  an  extremely  suggestible  animal. 
He  is,  of  course,  most  liable  to  adopt  thus  the  opinions  of 
those  who  for  some  reason  possess  prestige  for  him.  As  a  gre- 
garious animal,  he  is  greatly  influenced  by  the  opinions  of  his 
neighbors.  If  the  majority  of  persons  in  one's  community 
hold  certain  opinions,  it  is  very  difficult  to  exercise  one's  inde- 
pendent judgment,  and  not  passively  to  agree  with  them.  Contra 
suggestion  is  no  remedy.  Some  persons  of  a  "contrary"  frame 
of  mind  are  led  to  hold  opinions  precisely  the  opposite  to  those 
which  they  hear  expressed,  especially  if  asserted  by  persons 
whom  they  dislike.  This,  also,  is  a  case  of  adopting  opinions  as 
a  result  of  the  influence  of  others,  without  exercising  independ- 
ent judgment. 

Although  this  susceptibility  to  suggestion  often  makes  man 
tfre  victim  of  his  unscrupulous  fellows — notoriously,  for  in- 
stance, in  his  voting  by  demagogic  orators,  and  in  his  purchases 


IMITATION  225 

by  unscrupulous  advertisements — it  has  on  the  whole  been  a 
valuable  trait  in  human  nature.  Most  of  our  beliefs  as  adults 
have  been  adopted  by  us  as  a  result  of  suggestion.  Our  moral, 
political,  and  social  as  well  as  religious  convictions  have  chiefly 
come  to  us  in  this  way.  How  many  Americans  to-day  know 
why  they  believe  so  strongly  in  a  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment, in  monogamous  marriage,  and  in  Christianity?  How 
many  of  us  could  intelligently  defend  any  of  these  convictions, 
if  we  were  to  fall  into  an  argument  with  a  highly  educated 
Mohammedan?  How  many  of  us,  for  that  matter,  could  argue 
effectively  against  beliefs  in  witchcraft  and  slavery,  both  of 
which  were  firmly  held  by  our  ancestors?  Nor  is  our  inability 
to  defend  our  beliefs  on  such  matters  greatly  to  be  regretted. 
Those  beliefs  which  in  our  day  appear  established  and  appar- 
ently do  not  require  modification  on  account  of  changed  condi- 
tions, had  best  be  accepted  by  the  general  public  through  sug- 
gestion. Specialists  of  course  know  why  our  civilization  con- 
tains the  beliefs  mentioned.  All  of  them  were  considered  care- 
fully in  past  ages,  and  there  is  no  serious  reason  to  question 
the  wisdom  with  which  they  were  decided.  We  need  to  give  our 
attention  to  the  formation  of  opinions  on  the  unsettled  political, 
moral,  social  and  religious  problems  of  our  time, — of  which 
there  are  surely  enough  to  keep  us  busy.  To  help  decide  as 
many  of  them  as  we  can,  so  that  still  richer  traditions  may  be 
transmitted  to  those  who  come  after  us  is  our  principal  duty. 

So  far  as  the  normal  acceptance  of  traditional  beliefs 
through  suggestion  is  concerned,  religion  stands  on  the  same 
basis  as  other  activities.  Civilization  and  progress  are  only 
possible  because  we  have  so  large  an  heritage  of  beliefs  to  build 
upon.  It  would  be  foolish  to  criticize  any  of  them  needlessly. 
However,  in  our  time,  new  knowledge  requires  that  an  unusually 
large  number  of  traditional  beliefs  undergo  critical  revision  and 
reconstruction.  Every  liberally  educated  man  and  woman 
ought  to  form  intelligent  opinions  upon  them.  The  general 
public  will  never  have  leisure  nor  education  to  examine  many  of 
them ;  it  will  ultimately  accept  through  prestige  suggestion 
whatever  the  intelligent  classes  decide  to  be  probably  true.  All 
the  greater  responsibility  rests  upon  us  in  consequence. 

The  fact,  therefore,  that  the  majority  of  adolescents  develop 
religious  sentiments  which  rest  upon  beliefs  that  they  have 
adopted  from  their  religious  environments  without  much  con- 
scious reflection  is  normal  and  inevitable.  The  same  is  true  of 


226  PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS 

their  beliefs  on  morality,  politics  and  other  subjects.  The 
half-hypnotic  use  of  suggestion  in  revivals  is,  however,  quite 
another  matter,  and  open  to  serious  criticism,  as  will  be  indi- 
cated in  the  following  chapter. 

Sympathy  in  the  psychological  sense  signifies  the  tendency 
to  feel  an  emotion  that  is  felt  by  others,  without  critical  reflec- 
tion upon  the  grounds  for  the  emotion.  One  sheep  bleats  because 
it  is  frightened  at  some  object;  the  other  sheep  at  once  become 
frightened  without  knowing  why.  Similarly  fear  and  anger 
are  contagious  among  human  beings  and  cause  panics  and 
riots.  Laughter  is  similarly  infectious,  and  if  even  a  poor  joke 
be  told  at  a  dinner  everyone  will  catch  the  emotion  of  its  narra- 
tor and  heartily  laugh  with  him.  It  is  hard  to  remain  depressed 
among  joyful  companions,  or  to  remain  cheerful  among  those 
who  are  despondent.  If  one  stays  long  in  a  community  that  is 
passing  through  a  boom  it  is  difficult  not  to  catch  the  hopeful 
confidence  of  the  citizens,  however  ill  founded  are  the  logical 
grounds  of  their  enthusiasm ;  nor  can  one  in  a  period  of  financial 
depression  or  panic  fully  retain  the  confidence  in  the  ultimate 
security  of  good  investments  that  calm  reflection  warrants. 

Sympathy,  in  the  technical  sense  here  intended,  must  not  be 
confused  with  the  popular  usage,  in  which  it  is  employed  more 
or  less  interchangeably  with  tender  emotion  and  pity.  We 
can  feel  tenderness  toward  those  whose  emotions  we  do  not 
share.  This  is  true  of  the  competent  physician  and  nurse,  for 
example;  to  feel  the  emotions  of  their  patients  would  often 
render  them  incompetent  to  afford  the  relief  to  which  tender 
emotion  prompts.  On  the  other  hand,  we  may  feel  no  pity 
for  those  whose  emotions  we  involuntarily  share.  The  priest 
and  the  Levite  may  have  felt  great  sympathy  with  the  poor  man 
who  fell  among  the  thieves,  in  the  parable  of  the  Good  Samari- 
tan; it  may  be  that  the  very  sight  of  his  suffering  so  affected 
them  that  it  made  them  sick;  what  they  lacked  was  tender 
emotion  for  him,  and  so  they  found  it  convenient  to  hasten  away 
and  forget  him,  6. 

The  role  of  sympathy  in  the  religious  life  is  important.  God 
must  be  supposed  to  share  the  emotions  of  His  worshippers  as 
well  as  to  love  them.  Thus  only  could  men  confidently  turn 
to  Him  for  aid.  Mutual  sympathy  is  part  of  the  tie  that 
binds  members  of  church  or  synagogue  together.  Sympathy 
makes  possible  the  growth  of  common  sentiments  of  Icve  and 
loyalty.  The  desire  to  share  the  religious  emotions  of  adults — in 


IMITATION  227 

other  words,  the  desire  to  be  able  to  sympathize — is  one  of 
the  motives  that  helps  to  effect  religious  awakenings  in  adoles- 
cence. 

Unreflective  imitation  is  the  tendency  for  a  person  to  act 
in  a  certain  manner  simply  because  others  act  in  that  manner, 
without  critical  logical  examination  on  his  own  part  of  the 
reasons  for  such  conduct.  One  person  in  a  room  coughs  or 
yawns ;  presently  others  do  so,  and  the  contagion  soon  becomes 
quite  general.  Many  adults  find  themselves  keeping  time  with 
feet  or  fingers  to  the  music  of  a  passing  brass  band.  An  Eng- 
lishman with  a  pure  Oxford  pronunciation  cannot  spend  many 
years  in  an  American  community,  without  to  some  extent  ac- 
quiring the  nasal  twang  with  which  all  Americans  habitually 
and  unconsciously  speak. 

In  the  illustrations  just  given,  it  is  apparent  that  imitation 
is  subconscious  and  involuntary,  as  well  as  unreflective.  There 
are  numerous  cases  in  which  persons  imitate  those  who  have 
prestige,  adopting  their  modes  of  action  more  or  less  con- 
sciously and  voluntarily,  but  without  critical  reasoning  on  the 
matter.  Thus  fashions  spread,  and  rational  considerations 
regarding  economy,  comfort,  aesthetic  beauty  and  even  mod- 
esty have  insufficient  influence  to  prevent  modes  of  dress  that 
are  absurd  from  every  reflective  standpoint  coming  for  a  time 
into  very  general  usage.  Absurd  fads  in  home  furnishings, 
music,  dancing,  and  even  architecture  are  likewise  contagious. 
The  practises  of  aristocracies  are  imitated  by  all  the  other 
classes  of  a  country,  because  of  their  prestige.  To  the  influence 
of  prestige  is  due  in  large  measure  the  imitation  of  each 
European  country,  by  its  colonies.  For  this  reason,  "trade 
follows  the  flag,"  and  American  customs  are  rapidly  supplant- 
ing Spanish  customs  in  Porto  Rico  and  the  Philippines. 

Quite  different  from  imitation  that  is  subconscious  and  in- 
voluntary, and  imitation  that  is  conscious  and  voluntary  but 
unreflective,  is  reflective  imitation.  To  copy  a  model  because 
of  features  that  have  been  found  as  a  result  of  critical  examina- 
tion to  be  suited  to  one's  needs  is  wholly  different.  Of  late  years 
Japanese  imitation  of  occidental  civilization  has  largely  been 
of  this  critical  type;  the  relative  merits  of  the  leading  western 
nations  in  different  departments  of  civilization  have  been  care- 
fully weighed,  and  the  Japanese  have  selected  and  adapted  to 
their  wants  what,  in  their  judgment,  they  can  best  utilize. 


228  PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS 

All  three  forms  of  imitation,  of  course,  have  their  value. 
Attention  can  and  should  only  be  given  to  the  more  important 
details  of  conduct,  and  if  the  right  models  are  reflectively 
chosen  for  imitation,  details  and  routine  can  well  be  absorbed 
inattentively,  and  even  subconsciously.  Select  Tours  as  a  place 
to  learn  French,  and  Hanover  to  learn  German,  and  choose 
well  educated  natives  as  your  associates  after  you  arrive,  and 
you  will  profitably  assimilate  even  more  from  them  by  these 
methods  than  by  critical  imitation.  Both,  however,  are  needful. 
Young  men  probably  learned  most  about  railroading  in  the 
employ  of  James  J.  Hill,  about  the  steel  industry  under  Andrew 
Carnegie,  and  journalism  under  Charles  A.  Dana,  by  the 
unreflective  forms  of  imitation.  Yet,  in  these  instances,  as  in 
all  others,  only  those  who  did  their  very  best  consciously  and 
reflectively,  profiting  by  rational  imitation,  ever  rose  above 
mediocrity.  While  subconscious  and  conscious  but  uncritical 
imitation  assist  in  the  process,  they  do  not  suffice  to  make 
successful  men. 

For  the  small  child  imitation  is  mostly  unreflective,  though 
even  he  often  criticises  his  models  to  the  extent  of  his  mental 
capacity.  When  adolescence  is  attained,  and  reasoning  powers 
increase,  reflective  imitation  becomes  more  prominent.  This 
holds  true  of  the  manner  in  which  the  child  and  adolescent  learn 
all  forms  of  conduct  from  their  elders,  morals  as  truly  as 
speech,  deportment,  dress,  and  athletic  sports.  The  same 
principles  hold  in  religion.  The  little  child  prays  because  he 
is  told  to  do  so,  and  sees  others  doing  so ;  he  continues  attend- 
ance at  public  worship  because  of  admiration  and  respect  for 
his  elders,  as  well  as  in  obedience  to  their  commands.  The 
adolescent  not  only  feels  the  inward  necessity  of  gaining  their 
adult  religious  point  of  view;  he  critically  and  reflectively 
weighs,  as  well  as  he  can,  the  reasons  and  the  evidence  for  follow- 
ing the  Christian  life.  In  the  religious  life  of  adults  all  three 
forms  of  imitation  continue.  Probably  every  manual  of  devo- 
tion that  has  had  the  Imitation  of  Christ  for  its  theme,  from 
the  great  book  of  that  title  by  Thomas  a  Kempis,  to  such 
works  of  our  own  time  as  Dr.  Charles  Sheldon's  In  His  Steps, 
prompts  the  disciple  to  imitate  his  Master  in  all  these  ways. 

In  religion,  as  in  other  fields  of  human  activity,  these  innate 
non-specific  activities  are  a  conservative  agency,  leading  the 
youth  of  each  generation  to  adopt  the  beliefs,  emotions,  and 
practices  of  their  elders.  The  fact  that  the  religious  sentiment 


IMITATION  229 

develops  so  largely  in  childhood  and  youth  and  receives  its  set 
early  in  life,  makes  religion  one  of  the  most  conservative  forces 
in  human  society.  On  the  whole,  this  is  good.  What  needs  to 
be  handed  down  in  the  fields  of  moral  and  religious  values  from 
past  generations  at  any  given  time  is  vastly  greater  than  what 
needs  modification.  On  the  other  hand,  these  three  innate  non- 
specific tendencies  are  not  wholly  conservative  in  their  influence. 
Prestige  operates  in  behalf  of  a  revered  religious  leader.  The 
founders  of  new  religions  and  great  religious  reformers  have 
led  their  disciples  to  implicit  acceptance  of  their  beliefs, 
emotions,  sentiments,  and  practices.  Suggestion,  sympathy 
and  imitation  have  done  as  much  as  critical  reflection  to  insure 
the  triumph  of  new  religious  movements. 

As  was  said  above,  suggestion,  sympathy,  and  imitation  are 
very  closely  related.  Strictly  speaking,  they  may  really  be 
regarded  as  different  names  for  the  same  process,  according  to 
which  aspect  of  it  is  most  prominent.  Instincts  always  involve 
cognition,  affection  and  conation ;  no  one  can  take  place  without 
the  others.  In  consequence,  the  illustrations  of  any  one  of 
them  imply  the  presence  of  the  others. 

In  play  occurs  the  release  of  nervous  energy,  not  required 
for  immediate  tasks.  The  play  of  infants  is  merely  this, — just 
running  about  in  random  movements  which  give  expression  to 
their  buoyant  spirits.  The  plays  of  older  children  involve 
something  more.  Consciously  or  unconsciously  they  are  imita- 
tive of  the  activities  of  their  elders.  Boys  play  policemen  or 
fireman,  while  girls  act  the  role  of  little  mothers  in  the  care  of 
their  dolls.  All  of  the  primary  instincts  may  receive  expression 
in  play  during  childhood  and  youth  as  well  as  in  the  recreation 
of  adults ;  their  distinguishing  feature  as  play,  at  least  during 
youth  and  adult  life,  is  found  in  the  fact  that  they  are  not 
serious,  that  they  are  exercised  spontaneously  with  no  ulterior 
purpose  in  view.  Much  of  sport  involves  competition,  and  is  a 
modification  of  the  instinct  of  anger  or  pugnacity  by  which 
this  is  deprived  of  its  animus,  and  so  becomes  play. 

The  play  impulse  no  doubt  attracts  youngsters  to  the  Sunday 
schools  especially  when  the  times  of  Christmas  festivals  and 
summer  picnics  draw  near ;  adolescents  often  find  sociables  more 
attractive  than  Endeavor  consecration  meetings ;  many  adults 
are  more  faithful  in  their  attendance  at  church  suppers  than 
at  prayer  meetings  and  communion  services.  The  same  condi- 
tions prevail,  no  doubt,  in  primitive  religions.  This  being  the 


230  PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS 

case,  the  church  and  corresponding  organizations  in  other 
religions  have  always  found  it  expedient  to  appeal  to  this 
impulse  in  order  to  induce  individuals  to  attend  religious 
services.  However,  so  far  as  the  author  can  see,  neither  the 
play  impulse,  nor  the  aesthetic  impulses  that  are  similar  and 
in  some  degree  derivative,  ever  form  an  integral  element  in  the 
religious  sentiment.  Religious  endeavor  is  always  serious,  it  is 
always  an  endeavor  to  conserve  socially  recognized  values 
through  the  religious  Agency.  Like  work,  its  interest  is 
extrinsic,  for  benefits  to  be  experienced  at  other  times  than 
during  the  performance  of  the  *  ceremonial  itself.  The  play 
impulse  may  lead  a  person  into  an  environment  favorable  for 
the  growth  of  the  religious  sentiment,  and  it  may  aid  to  keep 
him  there.  Some  persons  their  lives  long  remain  in  a  church 
chiefly  because  of  its  function  as  a  social  club.  We  all  know 
such  people.  They  are  not  deeply  religious,  and  either  possess 
no  religious  sentiment  at  all,  or  more  probably,  a  slight  but 
inadequate  one. 

VII — The  Development  of  the  Self 

An  infant  does  not  possess  a  personality.  If  it  be  said  that 
he  has  a  self,  this  simply  means  that  his  consciousness  is  in 
some  sense  a  whole,  although  as  yet  largely  an  undifferentiated 
whole.  The  undifferentiated  self  of  the  infant  gradually 
develops  through  childhood  and  adolescence  into  the  person- 
ality of  the  adult.  Some  phases  of  this  development,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  religious  sentiment,  will  be  noted  in  the  following 
chapters.  At  present  it  will  suffice  to  note  three  psychological 
points  of  a  general  character,  7. 

(1)  The  self  develops  through  intercourse  with  others.  A 
baby  imitates  his  elders  consciously  and  subconsciously. 
Though  walking  and  talking  consist  chiefly  of  co-ordinations 
of  inherited  reflexes,  imitation  of  others  facilitates  the  consum- 
mation of  these  processes.  The  boy  in  his  play  imitates  his 
father,  the  policeman,  the  fireman,  and  other  heroes  of  his 
imagination  as  well  as  he  can,  and  so  learns  to  some  extent  the 
import  of  their  actions.  The  little  girl  reproduces  faithfully 
with  her  dolls  all  the  doings  of  her  mother.  Children  practise 
upon  younger  children  what  they  have  learned  from  those  older 
than  themselves.  They  also  learn  very  much  in  social  inter- 
course with  those  of  their  own  age,  in  displaying  to  one  another 
their  knowledge  and  accomplishments,  in  the  mutual  co-opera- 


THE  SELF  231 

tion  required  in  play.  Boys,  too,  learn  much  of  manliness  and 
fair  play  in  openly  conducted  fights  in  spite  of  the  bloody 
noses  and  soiled  raiment  that  shock  their  female  relatives. 

Nearly  all  of  the  child's  ideas  of  what  it  is  commendable 
to  do  and  not  to  do  come  from  his  social  environment.  It 
would  be  as  impossible  for  any  person  apart  from  social  inter- 
course to  build  up  the  contents  of  his  conscience,  telling  him 
what  is  right  and  wrong,  as  it  would  be  to  invent  a  language 
for  himself.  And  as  most  of  our  private  thinking  is  carried 
on  in  words  which  we  think  to  ourselves,  it,  too,  is  semi-social 
in  nature.  We  are  constantly  reasoning  with  ourselves,  debat- 
ing with  ourselves,  commending  or  condemning  ourselves ;  in 
short,  assuming  toward  ourselves  the  attitudes  that  we  have 
learned  in  our  social  relationships. 

Since  our  ideas  and  ideals  are  acquired  chiefly  through  social 
intercourse,  it  is  not  difficult  to  perceive  that  if  we  believe  in 
the  supreme  Agency  of  the  religious  sentiment,  our  relations 
toward  Him  will  have  the  same  general  features  as  our  relations 
with  others.  This  principle  will  have  its  specific  application  in 
our  study  of  prayer. 

(2)  The  self  develops  In  the  choices  it  makes.     The  char- 
acter of  any  one  is  the  outcome  of  his  decisions.     We  are 
constantly  choosing  between  one  possibility  and  another.    Thus 
habits  are  formed.     Thus,  too,  sentiments  developed  from  atti- 
tudes formed  toward  certain  objects  that  first  became  habitual, 
and  later  built  up  an  instructive  and  emotional  system.    Thus, 
too,  the  religious  sentiment  gets  its  setting  in  childhood  and 
early  adolescence,  in  the  repeated  choices  made  with  reference 
to  God  and  religious  worship.     Whether  this  sentiment  is  to 
exist  at  all,  and  how  prominent  a  place  it  is  to  occupy  are 
usually  decided  before  one  is  twenty,  8.     Another  momentous 
decision  involving  the  personality  as  a  whole  is  the  choice  of 
one's  vocation  in  life,  and  this,  too,  is  usually  made  before  one 
is    of    legal    age.     Such    decisions    are    largely    made    sub- 
consciously.    The   little    actions    and    thoughts    of    each    day 
gradually  are  shaping  the  turn  of  one's  interests  and  desires, 
so  that  when  a  conscious  decision  is  called  for,  this  often  is 
merely  a  registering  of  the  decision  that  has   already  been 
subconsciously  made  in  past  acts  and  thoughts. 

(3)  The  self  as  a  whole  is  determined  in  vts  constitution  by 
its  dominant  sentiments.    An  adult's  character  consists  of  his 
instincts  and  emotions   as  they  have  become  organized   into 


232  PSYCHOLOGICAL  CONCEPTIONS 

sentiments.  A  person  with  a  strong  character  is  one  whose 
sentiments  have  become  unified  in  a  coherent  whole,  with  a  few 
dominant  and  harmonious  sentiments  ruling  his  life.  One  man's 
ruling  sentiments  are  love  of  wealth,  luxury  and  self-display, 
and  fear  of  poverty.  These  guided  him  in  his  choice  of  his 
vocation  and  they  now  direct  his  conduct  in  it.  These  senti- 
ments influenced  him  in  his  selection  of  a  wife,  and  they  are 
now  responsible  for  the  manner  in  which  he  is  bringing  up  his 
children.  The  ruling  sentiments  of  another  successful  business 
man  have  been  desire  for  efficiency  as  an  executive,  for  compe- 
tence in  directing  large  undertakings,  and  the  consciousness 
of  power  successfully  employed.  He  cares  nothing  at  all  for 
ostentatious  display  of  wealth,  or  for  luxurious  living,  and 
leads  a  life  of  extreme  simplicity.  His  chief  satisfaction  is  the 
knowledge  that  his  name  is  deservedly  honored  and  respected 
in  commercial  and  banking  circles.  These  sentiments  have 
determined  the  decisions  he  has  made  throughout  his  life.  The 
ruling  sentiments  of  a  man  of  extremely  different  type  are  love 
of  knowledge  for  its  own  sake,  and  the  desire  for  fame  as  a 
discoverer  in  the  fields  of  pure  science.  These  sentiments 
determined  his  choice  of  a  profession,  his  selection  of  a  wife  who 
would  sympathize  with  his  ambitions  and  be  contented  with  his 
modest  financial  resources,  and  they  determine  the  small  number 
of  his  children  and  the  manner  in  which  they  are  being  educated. 
The  ruling  sentiments  of  another  man  are  love  for  his  fellow- 
men  and  keen  desire  to  serve  them  in  personal  ways ;  so  he  has 
become  a  clergyman  or  a  social  worker,  and  planned  his  life 
accordingly.  The  ruling  sentiment  of  another  man  is  ambition 
for  political  distinction,  and  of  another  a  passion  for  literary 
fame.  And  so  on.  A  woman's  sentiments  are  likely  to  be  more 
personal  in  the  objects  to  which  they  are  attached;  at  least 
this  is  true  if  she  marries.  For  her  decision  to  marry  means 
that  her  love  for  some  particular  man  and  desire  for  a  home  and 
children  are  stronger  than  her  interest  in  a  career  or  profession. 
Unlike  man  she  cannot  usually  have  both  home  and  a  career. 
She  has  to  make  an  absolute  choice  between  two  rival  senti- 
ments. Her  choice  made,  her  personality  becomes  deeper 
though  more  restricted  in  its  scope,  and  her  character  simpler 
and  more  consistent. 

Not  all  persons,  unhappily,  have  strong  and  coherent  charac- 
ters. Many  are  fickle,  others  are  irresolute  or  dissolute.  The 
fickle  man's  consciousness  vacillates  and  he  is  unable  to  make 


THE  SELF  233 

a  selection  between  rival  and  conflicting  sentiments.  He  may 
be  attracted  greatly  by  the  careers  of  a  philosopher  and  a  lady 
killer,  he  may  want  to  be  a  banker  and  a  writer  of  sentimental 
poetry,  or  to  be  a  gentleman  of  fashion  and  a  great  business 
man.  The  irresolute  man  may  at  times  be  under  the  guidance 
of  a  commendable  sentiment,  but  this  sentiment  is  not  strong 
enough  to  gain  control  of  various  impulses  that  are  antag- 
onistic to  it,  such  as  slothfulness  and  lack  of  self-confidence, 
while  the  dissolute  man  cannot  consistently  obey  his  higher 
sentiments  because  of  the  excessive  strength  of  antagonistic 
passions  inclining  him  to  vices  like  gambling,  drinking,  and 
licentiousness. 

The  religious  sentiment  demands  a  dominant  place  in  the 
lives  of  those  who  possess  it.  All  other  sentiments  must  be 
compatible  with  it.  God  demands  single  and  wholehearted 
devotion  on  the  part  of  those  who  love  and  revere  Him.  This 
sentiment  begins  its  growth  in  childhood,  but  does  not  then 
play  a  conspicuous  role.  It  normally  gains  prominence  in  the 
personal  consciousness  sometime  during  adolescence.  If  this 
dominance  over  the  self  is  gained  without  serious  conflict  on 
the  part  of  other  sentiments,  the  adolescent  awakening  of  the 
religious  sentiment  is  gradual,  peaceful,  and  harmonious,  and 
is  known  as  a  case  of  continuous  religious  growth;  if  the 
awakening  involves  a  sharp  and  bitter  but  successful  conflict 
with  other  tendencies  in  the  self,  it  is  a  conversion. 

In  its  intercourse  with  other  persons,  in  its  choices,  in  its 
cultivation  of  sentiments  and  submission  to  them,  the  develop- 
ment of  the  self  to  a  considerable  extent  goes  on  without  one's 
full  knowledge.  Besides  conscious  growth,  the  development  to 
a  very  large  extent  is  due  to  subconscious  processes.  This  is 
particularly  true  of  religious  experiences,  and  especially  those 

of  adolescence. 

REFERENCES 

•WILLIAM  McDouGALL,  Psychology.  An  Introduction  to  Social  Psychology. 
ALEXANDER  F.  SHAND,  Foundations  of  Character. 
JAMES  ROWLAND  ANGELL,  Psychology,  Chapters  XX-XXIII. 
*JAMES  BISSETT  PRATT,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  Chapter  III. 
GEORGE  A.  COE,  Psychology  of  Religion,  Chapter  XII ;  see  "Suggestion" 
in  Index. 

*CHARLES  HORTON  COOLEY,  Human  Nature  and  the  Social  Order. 
MORTON  PRINCE,  The  Unconscious.     The  Differentiation  of  a  Personality. 
*GEORGE  BARTON  CUTTEN,  Psychological  Phenomena  of  Christianity;  see 
'Subconscious"  in  Index. 

*EDWARD  A.  Ross,  Social  Psychology  (illustrations  of  suggestion  and 
Er.rrpcestibility). 

*GRAHAM  WALLAS,  The  Great  Society,  Chapter  VIII. 
WILLIAM  JAMES,  Principles  of  Psychology  (on  subconscious,  self,  etc.). 
See  also  references  given  in  the  notes  to  this  chapter. 


THE    RELIGIOUS    SENTIMENT 
I — Introductory 

A  SENTIMENT,  as  we  have  seen,  is  an  organization  of  instincts 
and  emotions  about  an  object.  Unlike  instincts,  sentiments 
are  not  inherited  but  develop  in  the  course  of  one's  life  time. 
Knowledge  of  man's  more  deep  seated  and  comprehensive  senti- 
ments discloses  what  a  man  desires  and  loves,  what  he  dislikes 
and  hates,  what  he  respects  and  reveres,  what  he  despises,  what 
constitute  his  ambitions  and  aspirations,  his  fears  and  aversions. 
His  sentiments  make  a  man  what  he  is,  and  determine  what  it  is 
possible  for  him  to  become. 

For  all  who  have  had  a  profound  religious  experience,  the 
religious  sentiment  has  become  at  least  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant sentiments  in  their  personalities.  The  higher  religions 
insist  that  the  religious  sentiment  shall  be  supreme  over  all 
other  impulses.  The  Jew  is  commanded  to  love  the  Lord  with 
all  his  mind,  with  all  his  heart,  with  all  his  soul,  and  with  all 
his  strength.  The  Christian  is  enjoined  to  commit  his  soul 
unreservedly  to  Christ,  and  to  make  Him  the  guide  and  pattern 
of  his  life.  The  Mohammedan  must  yield  his  will  in  absolute 
submission  to  Allah.  While  the  Southern  Buddhist  does  not 
recognize  a  personal  God,  he  must  take  his  refuge,  completely 
in  the  Buddha,  his  system  of  doctrine,  and  the  guidance  of  the 
monastic  brotherhood.  Perhaps  none  of  the  followers  of  these 
religions  perfectly  comply  with  these  commands.  But  those 
with  deep  religious  convictions  endeavor  to  do  so,  and  the 
religious  sentiment  at  any  rate  becomes  one  of  the  strongest 
influences  determining  their  beliefs,  actions,  loyalties,  and 
aspirations. 

As  extensive  investigations  in  the  psychology  of  religious 
experience  have  only  been  made  in  the  case  of  Protestants  of 
the  non-ritualistic  denominations,  the  account  in  this  chapter 
will  be  confined  to  them.  Since  human  nature  is  always  much 
the  same,  it  would  doubtless  be  safe  to  conjecture  that  the 

234 


CHILDHOOD  235 

same  principles  would  be  found  to  prevail,  at  least  in  the  main, 
among  other  Protestants,  as  well  as  Catholics  and  Jews. 

II — Religion  in  Childhood 

By  childhood  will  be  meant  the  years  from  four  until  ten. 
The  limiting  years  are  rather  arbitrary,  and  differ  with  indi- 
viduals. However,  by  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  year,  some 
consciousness  of  personality  has  been  acquired.  With  the 
eleventh  year,  the  great  oncoming  changes  of  adolescence  are 
already  casting  their  shadows  before.  The  child  witnesses, 
and  to  the  extent  of  his  ability,  participates  in,  the  religious 
observances  of  the  home,  Sunday  school,  and  church.  He  is 
much  more  a  witness  than  a  participant.  Religious  worship 
is  normally  something  that  is  external  to  him,  that  perhaps 
interests  him,  but  does  not  inwardly  affect  him  very  deeply. 
When  asked  what  impressions  the  church  services  and 
Sunday  school  made  upon  them  in  childhood,  mature  persons 
gave  to  Professor  Ames  such  replies  as  these: — "Up  to  the 
age  of  twelve,  I  know  of  no  definite  impression  the  church 
service  made  on  me.  I  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course."  "I 
cannot  recall  any  impression  that  church  and  Sunday  school 
made  except  that  I  acquired  a  definite  habit  of  attendance  and 
reverence,"  1.  Professor  Starbuck  received  similar  answers,  and 
concludes :  "religion  is  distinctively  external  to  the  child  rather 
than  something  which  possesses  inner  significance,"  2. 

God  seems  to  the  child  to  be  a  being  external  to  him, — a  man 
on  a  larger  scale.  A  child  saw  workingmen  returning  from 
their  work.  "Mamma,"  he  asked,  "is  these  gods?"  "God," 
retorted  the  mother,  "Why?"  "Because  they  make  houses  and 
churches,  mamma,  just  the  same  as  God  makes  moons  and 
people  and  ickle  dogs."  Another  child,  watching  a  man  repair- 
ing telegraph  wires  on  a  high  pole  asked  if  he  was  God,  3.  A 
little  girl  explained  thunder  as  "God  rolling  barrels  up  in 
heaven."  Other  children  have  thought  of  God  as  a  carpenter, 
a  juggler,  a  preternaturally  big  man,  and  so  on,  4.  John  Fiske 
recalled  the  God  of  his  childhood  as  a  bookkeeper,  leaning  over 
his  desk  up  in  the  sky,  diligently  observing  the  conduct  of 
people  and  making  note  in  his  books  of  their  misdeeds,  5. 

The  instincts  and  emotions  felt  toward  God  by  children 
appear  to  be  various.  Love  and  childish  confidence  are  com- 
mon, as  also  are  fear,  wonder,  and  awe.  Professor  Dawson 
shows  that  the  conception  of  God  often  satisfies  intellectual 


236  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

curiosity  as  to  the  origin  of  persons  and  things,  particularly 
as  the  child  is  liable  to  attribute  causes  to  persons  rather  than 
to  mechanical  forces,  6.  God,  being  conceived  of  as  a  person, 
much  like  his  parents,  is  besought  to  bestow  the  things  that 
the  child  desires.  "I  always  asked  God  for  the  most  trivial 
things."  "I  used  the  most  endearing  terms  to  God,  thinking 
that  he  would  be  more  likely  to  listen."  Like  the  savage,  the 
child  looks  to  God  chiefly  for  material  goods.  As  Professor 
Starbuck  observes,  "The  child  uses  God  for  its  own  petty  ends, 
it  bargains  with  Him.  God  and  heaven  more  frequently  exist 
for  the  child  and  not  the  child  for  them."  Yet  the  child  is  by 
no  means  devoid  of  the  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  which  "germi- 
nates early,  and  is  evidently  one  of  the  most  potent  factors  in 
childhood  religion."  The  following  are  among  the  instances 
which  he  mentions :  "I  had  no  religious  training,  but  prayed 
a  good  deal  to  be  made  good."  "When  seven  I  stole  some 
cookies.  I  worried  over  it  for  three  days.  I  confessed  to  God, 
wept  and  prayed,  but  felt  that  something  more  was  necessary. 
Finally  I  confessed  to  mother,  and  was  forgiven,"  7. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  under  favorable  conditions  a 
rudimentary  religious  sentiment  develops  in  childhood.  God, 
naively  conceived,  is  the  object  of  this  sentiment.  The  values 
sought  to  be  conserved  through  Him,  trivial  though  they  seem 
to  the  adult,  are  serious  in  the  mind  of  the  child.  Though 
these  values  are  chiefly  material,  moral  values  are  by  no  means 
lacking.  Whatever  moral  values  the  child  is  capable  of  recog- 
nizing, he  readily  learns  to  seek  through  God. 

It  follows  that  the  religious  sentiment  normally  begins  its 
growth  in  childhood.  If  this  sentiment  is  to  become  enlarged 
and  deepened  during  adolescence,  and  become  one  of  the  ruling 
sentiments  in  adult  years,  it  should  get  a  start  in  early  child- 
hood. Only  those  who  believe  that  religion  is  a  bad  thing  for 
adults,  which  ought  to  be  extirpated  with  advancing  civilization, 
can  seriously  question  the  desirability  of  giving  some  religious 
teaching  to  children.  Rousseau  was  altogether  wrong  upon 
this  point.  The  chief  cautions  to  be  observed  are  (1)  the  child 
should  not  be  taught  stiff  theological  doctrines  no  longer  held 
by  progressive  adults;  and  (2)  no  attempt  should  be  made  to 
lead  him  into  "conversion,"  "conviction  of  sin,"  or  other 
emotional  states  unsuited  to  his  years.  "Decision  days"  in 
our  Sunday  schools  ought  never  to  be  observed  in  classes  below 
the  adolescent  stage.  It  is  doubtful  if  they  are  justifiable 


ADOLESCENCE  237 

even  for  young  adolescents.  Religious  precosity  in  children 
is  not  less  unwholesome  than  sexual  precosity.  Particularly  to 
be  commended  are  Bible  and  other  religious  stories,  plays  and 
games  with  religious  information  conveyed  in  them,  and  the 
repetition  of  simple  prayers  on  retiring.  The  reader  who  is 
interested  in  the  educational  side  of  this  matter  is  referred  to 
the  standard  books  on  religious  pedagogy,  among  which 
Professor  G.  A.  Coe's  Education  in  Religion  and  Morals  and 
Professor  G.  E.  Dawson's  The  Child  and  His  Religion  may  be 
trusted  as  scientifically  reliable. 

The  author  does  not  pretend  to  know  much  about  religious 
pedagogy.  He  ventures,  however,  to  offer  a  suggestion.  It 
has  often  appeared  to  him  desirable,  that  no  children  to-day, 
however  little,  should  be  permitted  to  fancy  that  all  stories  in 
the  Bible  are  "true  stories"  in  the  historical  sense.  Why  not 
teach  them  frankly  that  almost  everybody  now  believes  that 
the  stories  of  Adam  and  Eve,  Noah,  Jonah,  and  the  like,  are 
not  "true  stories?"  They  could  at  the  same  time  be  assured  that 
all  Bible  stories,  both  those  that  are  "true  stories"  and  those 
that  are  not,  contain  lessons  that  God  intends  us  to  learn, — 
lessons  that  usually  are  the  same  in  the  case  of  any  particular 
story  no  matter  to  which  class  it  belongs.  Would  not  a  healthy 
mixture  of  faith  and  doubt  thus  imparted  in  childhood  save 
many  adolescents,  later  on,  from  passing  through  the  tortures 
from  which  most  of  us  have  suffered?  Is  it  not  more  probable 
that  children,  so  taught,  would  when  adults  be  active  supporters 
of  the  churches  than  under  present  conditions? 

Ill — A  dolescence 

By  adolescence  will  be  meant  the  years  from  eleven  to 
twenty-one.  The  physiological  changes  that  come  in  the 
earlier  years  of  this  period  are  well  known.  Girls  on  the 
average  gain  five  inches  in  height  between  the  ages  of  eleven 
and  thirteen,  and  boys  make  an  equal  gain  between  fourteen 
and  sixteen,  while  rapid  increases  in  weight  occur  during  the 
same  years.  The  development  of  the  brain  and  nervous  system 
in  many  instances  is  not  equally  rapid,  and  an  "awkward  age" 
ensues.  Important,  too,  is  the  accession  to  puberty,  which 
usually  comes  about  this  time,  the  most  frequent  age  for  both 
sexes  in  America  being  fourteen.  By  the  close  of  the  sixteenth 
year,  the  more  troublesome  phases  of  the  transition  to  young 
manhood  and  womanhood  are  usually  over,  though  the  attain- 


238  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

ment  of  complete  physical  maturity  may  still  be  some  years 
distant.  It  is  probable  that  numerous  brain  cells,  in  the 
association  areas  particularly,  first  begin  to  function  during 
adolescence. 

The  mental  changes  that  take  place  during  adolescence  are 
no  less  important.  The  strength  of  various  instincts  becomes 
greatly  enhanced.  This  is  noteworthy  in  the  case  of  the 
gregarious  instinct.  During  childhood  there  is  comparatively 
little  interest  in  plays  that  involve  team  work  or  co-operation. 
In  a  baseball  game  each  little  boy  wants  to  be  pitcher.  But 
about  the  dawn  of  adolescence  youths  and  maidens  of  their 
own  initiative  organize  athletic  teams,  clubs,  secret  organiza- 
tions, and  societies  of  various  sorts.  Ere  long  they  begin  to 
take  a  keener  interest  in  the  problems  and  associations  of  their 
elders.  The  youth  is  eager  to  form  opinions  upon  the  political, 
religious,  social  and  moral  issues  of  the  day.  He  is  likely  to 
be  dogmatic,  and  he  makes  a  strong  partisan.  For  him  truth 
and  justice  are  absolute;  anything  is  either  true  or  false,  right 
or  wrong.  All  is  either  black  or  white;  there  are  no  grays. 
He  has  not  yet  learned  that  truth  and  right  are  often  to  be 
found  on  both  sides  of  a  controverted  question,  or  are  only  to 
be  arrived  at  from  some  larger  standpoint  more  comprehen- 
sive than  either.  Suspense  of  judgment  is  difficult,  if  not  impos- 
sible. The  adolescent  is  often  morbidly  conscientious  on  some 
points,  while  still  oblivious  to  other  responsibilities. 

Besides  the  intensifying  of  the  gregarious  instinct,  these 
changes  are  caused  by  the  newly  acquired  ability  to  make  much 
larger  use  of  abstract  reasoning  than  is  possible  for  a  child, 
a  change  accompanying  the  ripening  of  brain  cells.  The  inten- 
sifying of  the  instincts  of  anger,  self-assertion,  and  self- 
abasement  furnishes  difficult  tasks  of  self-control  for  both  sexes. 
Adolescent  boys  and  girls  in  consequence  are  often  irritable 
and  quarrelsome;  they  are  likely  to  be  excessively  bashful  at 
times;  and  at  others  to  be  given  to  self-display  and  the  desire 
to  show  off.  The  awakening  of  the  sexual  impulse  probably 
gives  to  most  adolescent  boys  their  hardest  battles  for  self 
mastery.  The  choice  of  a  vocation  and  entrance  upon  it  are 
necessary  for  most  boys  and  girls  in  this  period ;  for  those  who 
are  able  to  defer  this  decision  a  few  years  longer  the  selection 
of  a  college  has  to  be  made.  Youthful  love  affairs  are  common, 
and  these  first  romances  are  often  taken  too  seriously  to  heart. 

Adolescence  is  the  period  when  human  personality  receives 


ADOLESCENCE  239 

its  permanent  set.  Many  of  one's  peculiar  tastes  and  habits 
are  then  fixed,  8.  There  are  numerous  fields  in  which  it  is 
practically  impossible  for  one  later  in  life  to  acquire  an  interest 
for  the  first  time.  This  is  true  of  music,  art,  literature,  and 
athletic  sports  and  games.  It  is  even  hard,  later  in  life,  to 
learn  to  dress  well,  to  select  furniture,  to  acquire  a  new 
language  free  from  accent,  or  to  learn  to  speak  or  to  write 
one's  own  vernacular  correctly.  The  first  steps  in  the  various 
vices  are  made  during  adolescence.  There  is  little  risk  that  a 
man  who  has  made  no  bad  beginnings  during  adolescence  will 
ever  become  a  victim  of  incontinence,  gambling,  or  the  excessive 
use  of  alcohol.  A  youth  who  is  habitually  truthful,  honorable, 
and  conscientious  in  his  dealings  with  others  may  reasonably 
be  expected  to  remain  so  to  the  end  of  his  days.  Since  the 
personal  characteristics  of  the  adult  become  fixed  in  many 
other  respects,  during  adolescence,  it  is  not  surprising  that 
this  is  the  case  with  the  attitude  toward  religion.  Comparatively 
few  adults  are  to  be  found  among  the  communicants  of 
churches  who  did  not  become  such  during  adolescence. 

IV — Adolescence  and  the  Religious  Sentiment 

The  religious  sentiment,  as  has  been  said,  under  proper  condi- 
tions has  its  origin  in  childhood.  Its  chief  growth  comes  during 
adolescence,  when  there  may  occur  as  great  an  enlargement 
of  the  religious  life  as  of  other  mental  and  moral  capacities. 
To  the  child,  God  is  external, — just  a  man  on  a  larger  scale 
for  him  to  approach,  address,  petition,  love,  and  confide  in, 
like  any  other  friend.  To  the  adolescent,  with  his  newly 
acquired  powers  of  abstract  thinking,  God  is  much  more  pro- 
foundly significant.  He  is  the  intellectual  explanation  of  the 
universe,  the  maintainer  of  the  moral  order,  the  essence  of  truth, 
holiness,  justice,  righteousness,  beauty,  love,  and  whatever 
other  abstract  attributes  and  qualities  it  occurs  to  the  youth 
to  regard  as  absolute,  eternal,  infinite,  or  in  any  sense  ultimate. 

With  this  altered  conception  of  God,  come  changes  in  the 
moral  values  which  the  youth  seeks  through  God.  He  now 
desires  proper  harmonization  of  the  instincts  that  have  recently 
become  intense  and  hard  to  control — 'such  as  temper,  self,  and 
sox.  He  seeks  a  better  understanding  of  right  and  wrong.  He 
begins  to  realize  that  his  parents  and  other  religious  minded 
adults  gain  help  in  their  moral  life  through  public  and  private 
worship  of  God.  The  religious  observances  that  he  has  always 


240  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

seen  going  on  evidently  possess  for  them  an  inward  meaning 
that  has  hitherto  escaped  him.  God,  for  them,  is  not  just  an 
external  Being  to  be  addressed,  but  a  Great  Companion  with 
whom  they  commune  inwardly.  He  is  "closer  than  breathing, 
nearer  than  hands  and  feet."  Familiar  prayers  and  psalms 
evidently  mean  more  to  them  than  he  had  suspected.  He  has 
probably  long  been  acquainted  with  the  twenty-third  Psalm 
and  the  Lord's  Prayer.  He  discovers  that  to  his  mother  these 
are  helpful  and  precious,  with  meaning  that  has  hitherto 
escaped  him.  What  is  true  in  regard  to  God  is  also  true  of 
the  subordinate  objects  of  the  religious  sentiment,  such  as  the 
Bible,  the  church,  and  the  sacraments.  He  perceives  that  they 
all  imply  deep  inward  values  that  he  must  learn  to  appreciate 
and  to  make  his  own. 

The  problem  for  the  adolescent  is  therefore  to  secure  for 
himself  an  adequate  enlargement  of  the  religious  sentiment,  so 
that  the  religion  of  his  elders  may  truly  become  his  religion, 
so  that  he  may  share  in  their  public  worship  and  get  out  of 
it  what  they  do,  so  that  he  may  privately  gain  the  help  from 
God  for  his  personal  struggles  that  they  gain  for  theirs. 

This  enlargement  in  the  religious  sentiment  of  the  adolescent 
is  the  outcome  of  a  gradual  growth  in  which,  as  youth  and 
maiden  pass  out  of  childhood,  toward  manhood  or  womanhood, 
he  or  she  subconsciously  learns  to  understand,  to  appreciate, 
and  to  participate  in  the  surrounding  religious  environment. 

The  manner,  however,  in  which  the  adolescent  awakens  to 
consciousness  of  this  gradual  enlargement  of  the  religious  senti- 
ment that  has  been  taking  place  within  him,  and  by  awakening 
to  consciousness  of  it,  learns  to  make  it  fully  his  own,  and  to 
enjoy  the  benefits  of  it,  varies  in  different  individuals.  Hence 
there  are  various  types  of  the  awakening  of  the  religious 
sentiment. 

The  simplest  type  of  such  awakening  is  known  as  continuous 
religious  growth  without  conscious  transitions.  In  this  type, 
adolescents  pass  gradually,  and  without  points  of  transition 
of  which  they  are  aware,  from  the  naive  and  external  attitudes 
of  the  child  to  the  deepened  religious  consciousness  of  the 
devout  adult.  A  famous  instance  of  this  type  is  that  of  Dr. 
Edward  Everett  Hale: — "I  observe,  with  profound  regret, 
the  religious  struggles  which  come  into  many  biographies,  as 
if  almost  essential  to  the  formation  of  the  hero.  I  ought  to 
speak  of  these,  to  say  that  any  man  has  an  advantage,  not  to 


ADOLESCENCE 

be  estimated,  who  is  born,  as  I  was,  into  a  family  where  the 
religion  is  simple  and  rational;  who  is  trained  in  the  theory 
of  this  religion,  so  that  he  never  knows,  for  an  hour,  what 
these  religious  or  irreligious  struggles  are.  I  always  knew  God 
loved  me,  and  I  was  always  grateful  to  Him  for  the  world  He 
placed  me  in.  I  always  liked  to  tell  Him  so,  and  was  always 
glad  to  receive  His  suggestions  to  me."  Professor  Starbuck 
cites  numerous  other  instances,  9. 

Diametrically  opposite  are  the  various  types  classified 
together  by  writers  on  the  psychology  of  religion  as  conversion. 
This  technical  significance  of  conversion  must  not  be  confused 
with  the  broader  usage  given  to  the  term  by  many  ministers, 
who  apply  it  to  designate  any  form  whatever  by  which  a  satis- 
factory adult  religious  sentiment  may  be  attained.  The  minis- 
terial usage  is  quite  justifiable,  in  fact  indispensable,  for  those 
who  must  interpret  to  their  congregations  the  outcome  of  Jesus' 
conversation  with  Nicodemus  reported  in  the  Fourth  Gospel 
as  signifying  that  every  one,  if  he  is  to  be  a  Christian,  must 
be  "converted."  It  is  quite  true  that  no  one  can  enter  fully 
into  the  Christian  life  who  has  not  in  some  manner  acquired 
and  become  possessed  of  an  enlarged  sentiment.  In  this  minis- 
terial sense  of  "conversion,"  it  is  true  that  no  one  can  become 
a  Christian  without  being  converted.  But  very  many,  perhaps 
the  majority,  of  persons  become  Christians  without  being  con- 
verted in  the  technical  sense  of  the  word,  as  it  is  employed  by 
writers  upon  the  psychology  of  religion.  And,  be  it  understood, 
throughout  this  book  the  word  "conversion"  will  be  employed 
in  the  technical  sense  of  the  psychologists. 

In  all  cases  of  Conversion  (in  the  technical,  psychological 
sense  of  the  word),  the  individual  passes  through  a  sharp  and 
painful  mental  crisis  and  emerges  a  changed  person.  Before 
conversion  his  religious  sentiment  was  that  of  a  child;  after 
conversion  it  is  that  of  the  religiously  awakened  adolescent  or 
adult. 

Numerous  types  of  conversion  have  been  distinguished  which 
frequently  overlap.  For  instance,  there  are  the  cases  in  which, 
before  and  during  the  crisis,  the  individual  has  a  feeling  of 
incompleteness,  which  is  followed,  after  the  crisis  is  over  and 
the  victory  won,  by  a  sense  of  spiritual  illumination.  "I  prayed 
day  after  day,  struggling  for  light.  While  struggling  in 
prayer,  peace  came  to  me  in  the  darkness."  "I  prayed  and 
cried  to  God  for  help.  I  wandered  for  years,  seeking  rest.  I 


THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

went  to  many  a  priest  for  comfort.  When  all  outward  help 
failed,  a  voice  came  which  said,  'There  is  one,  even  Christ  Jesus, 
can  speak  to  thy  condition' ;  and  when  I  heard  it,  my  heart  did 
leap  for  joy,"  10.  The  feeling  of  incompleteness  is  one  of 
"uncertainty,  unrest,  mistiness,  a  dazed  feeling,  distress,  effort, 
struggle  toward  an  indefinite  something,  longing  for  something 
out  of  reach,  etc.,  which  is  followed  by  peace,  happiness,  a  sense 
of  harmony,  a  clearing  away,  a  flash  of  light,  freedom,  entrance 
into  the  new  life,  and  so  on."  According  to  Professor  Starbuck, 
this  is  the  most  common  adolescent  type  of  conversion,  at  least 
six  times  as  frequent  as  the  type  opposed  to  it,  that  of  a  sense 
of  sin  followed  by  escape  from  It. 

The  latter  type  is  a  much  more  acute  experience.  "In  the 
escape  from  sin  the  conflict  is  between  a  life  that  has  been 
lived — a  sinful  habitual  life — and  the  life  of  righteousness; 
while  in  the  other  type  the  conflict  is  between  a  life  that  is  not — 
an  incomplete,  imperfect,  aspiring  self — and  the  life  which  is 
to  blossom  out  and  be  realized.  .  .  .  The  sense  of  sin  shows 
itself  as  a  feeling  of  wretchedness,  heaviness,  helplessness,  weari- 
ness, sensitiveness  and  resistance,  separation  from  friends  and 
God,  fear,  resentment,  and  so  on — feelings  which  are  followed 
after  the  crisis  by  joy,  peace,  rest,  lightness  of  heart,  oneness 
with  others  and  God,  love,  exuberance  of  spirits,  sense  of  free 
activity  and  the  like.  The  feelings  are  reduced  to  the  last 
degree  of  tension,  and  then  recoil ;  are  pent  up,  and  suddenly 
burst;  life  appears  to  force  itself  to  the  farthest  extreme  in  a 
given  direction,  and  then  to  break  into  free  activity  in 
another,"  11. 

In  the  case  of  adolescent  girls  who  Have  committed  no 
heinous  sins,  the  evidence  indicates  depressed  organic  conditions, 
due  to  rapid  physiological  changes,  which  are  often  attended 
by  hysteria  and  other  nervous  and  circulatory  disorders.  In  the 
case  of  boys,  the  sense  of  sin  is  often  due  to  self-reproach  for 
weakness  in  conflicts  with  temper  and  sex.  When  there  has 
actually  been  moral  waywardness,  conversion  for  adolescents, 
as  for  adults,  involves  a  fierce  struggle  to  overcome  tendencies 
antagonistic  to  the  religious  sentiment. 

The  severe  struggle  in  "sense  of  sin"  conversions  that  involve 
the  suppression  of  habits  and  other  antagonistic  impulses  can 
best  be  understood  psychologically  in  view  of  two  of  the  general 
laws  of  sentiments  laid  down  by  Mr.  Alexander  F.  Shand.  He 
says,  "Every  sentiment  tends  to  include  in  its  own  system  all 


ADOLESCENCE  243 

the  thoughts,  volitional  processes  and  qualities  of  character 
which  are  of  advantage  to  it  for  the  attainment  of  its  ends, 
and  to  reject  all  such  constituents  as  are  either  superfluous 
or  antagonistic,"  12.  The  qualities  characteristic  of  a  senti- 
ment often  at  first  develop  spontaneously  [subconsciously?] 
for  instance,  generosity,  gentleness,  kindliness  and  sincerity  in 
the  case  of  the  sentiments  for  truth  and  art.  Later,  in  the 
case  of  all  sentiments  that  tend  to  grow  or  maintain  them- 
selves, a  second  stage  appears  in  which  we  become  conscious  of 
these  qualities,  reflect  upon  them,  and  strive  after  them  with 
effort,  because  we  see  that  they  are  in  danger  of  not  advancing 
with  the  growth  and  needs  of  the  sentiment — so  ideals  are 
formed,  and  duties  as  well.  Love  creates  its  own  virtues,  ideals 
and  duties,  and  a  conscience, — in  short  develops  an  ethics  of 
its  own.  Hence  the  other  law  follows,  namely,  "Every  sentiment 
tends  to  form  a  type  of  character  of  its  own,"  13. 

What  Mr.  Shand  finds  to  be  generally  true  of  the  sentiments 
of  love  and  respect,  can  be  applied  to  the  religious  sentiment, 
which  in  Americans  to-day  consists  chiefly  of  love  and  respect 
for  God,  and  for  the  subordinate  objects  associated  with  Him. 
The  awakening  religious  sentiment  recognizes  the  virtues,  ideals 
and  duties  which  must  be  conscientiously  cultivated;  it  tends 
to  form  a  type  of  character.  All  in  oneself  that  is  antagonistic 
to  this  type  of  character  is  wrong,  and  must  be  uprooted  and 
destroyed.  Its  existence  in  one  is  sinful ;  being  opposed  to  the 
ethics  of  the  religious  sentiment,  it  may  be  thought  of  as 
"original  sin,"  "depravity,"  or  the  "carnal  mind,"  all  of  which 
are  fundamentally  "at  enmity  with  God."  God  requires  abso- 
lute loyalty  and  devotion.  It  is  impossible  to  serve  both  Him 
and  Mammon.  So  if  there  exist  in  an  adolescent's  personality 
elements  felt  by  him  to  be  hostile  to  his  awakening  religious 
sentiment,  he  is  forced  to  undergo  a  conflict  until  these 
unfriendly  elements  have  become  subdued.  Only  then  can  he 
enjoy  the  perfect  peace  and  happiness  of  oneness  with  God, 
i.  e.,  the  harmonious  organization  of  his  character  under  the 
dominance  of  his  religious  sentiment. 

This  view  of  the  religious  sentiment  explains,  also,  the  two 
volitional  tvpes  of  conversion  distin crushed  bv  Professor  Star- 
buck  and  William  James,  one  involving  "effort" ;  and  the  other 
"self  surrender."  In  the  former,  the  struggling  adolescent  feels 
the  necessity  of  making  a  resolute  struggle  in  order  to  gain 
the  larger  life.  "I  determined  to  yield  my  heart  and  life  to 


2J4  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

God's  service."  "One  day  I  made  up  my  mind  I  would  be  for 
Christ  always,"  14.  A  fuller  account  of  such  an  experience  is 
quoted  by  William  James  from  C.  G.  Finney's  Memoirs :  "Just 
at  this  point  the  whole  question  of  Gospel  salvation  opened  to 
my  mind  in  a  manner  most  marvelous  to  me  at  the  time.  I 
think  I  then  saw,  as  clearly  as  I  ever  have  in  my  life,  the  reality 
and  fullness  of  the  atonement  of  Christ.  .  .  After  this 
distinct  revelation  had  stood  for  some  little  time  before  my 
mind,  the  question  seemed  to  be  put,  'Will  you  accept  it  now, 
today?'  I  replied,  'Yes,  I  will  accept  it  today,  or  I  will  die 
in  the  attempt !' '  But  he  found  that  he  could  not  pray, 
because  his  heart  was  hardened  with  pride.  "I  then  reproached 
myself.  .  .  A  great  sinking  and  discouragement  came  over 
me,  and  I  felt  almost  too  weak  to  stand  on  my  knees."  So  the 
conflict  continued  for  some  time,  between,  as  we  might  put  it 
psychologically,  the  awakening  religious  sentiment  and  the 
elements  in  his  personality  antagonistic  to  it,  15. 

The  "self-surrender"  type  is  superficially  opposite.  In  this 
type  the  individual  must  give  up  struggling.  His  tendency  has 
been  to  identify  his  self  with  the  impulses  antagonistic  to  the 
religious  sentiment.  His  self,  as  thus  conceived,  must  now 
passively  submit,  and  permit  the  awakening  sentiment  to  domi- 
nate consciousness  entirely,  and  automatically  to  suppress  all 
that  is  hostile  to  it.  The  self  or  will,  composed  of  antagonistic 
impulses,  must  be  broken  completely.  "I  had  said  I  would  not 
give  up;  but  when  my  will  was  broken  it  was  all  over." 
simply  said,  'Lord,  I  have  done  all  I  can;  I  leave  the  whole 
matter  with  Thee,'  and  immediately  there  came  to  me  a  great 
peace."  "All  at  once  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  might  be  saved, 
too,  if  I  would  stop  trying  to  do  it  all  myself,  and  follow  Jesus  ; 
somehow  I  lost  my  load,"  16. 

Besides  the  types  of  awakening  of  the  religious  sentiment 
here  designated  as  those  of  "continuous  growth"  and  "conver- 
sion" there  are  various  mixed  types,  partaking  in  part  of  the 
nature  of  continuous  growth  and  in  part  of  conversion.  For 
instance,  Professor  Starbuck  describes  cases  in  which  there 
has  apparently  been  continuous  religious  growth  up  to  a  certain 
point,  when  quite  suddenly  and  spontaneously  "the  new  life 
bursts  forth  without  any  apparent  immediate  cause."  "For 
four  years  I  had  wanted  to  be  a  Christian  but  could  not  feel 
my  sins  forgiven.  One  morning  sitting  in  my  room  reading, 
peace  just  seemed  to  come,  and  I  was  happy  indeed."  Professor 


THE  SUBCONSCIOUS  245 

Starbuck  also  gives  accounts  of  cases  in  which  states  of  storm 
and  stress,  of  doubt,  and  of  feelings  of  alienation  from  God, 
are  succeeded  by  the  acquisition  of  the  larger  self.  These 
cases  contain  some  but  not  all  of  the  features  of  conversion, 
and  are  accordingly  classified  by  him  among  "lines  of  religious 
growth  not  involving  conversion."  They  are  evidently  mixed 
types,  17.  Professor  Ames  reports  similar  cases,  18. 

Before  leaving  the  subject  of  the  classification  of  types  of 
religious  awakening,  attention  should  be  called  to  the  fact 
that  Professor  Pratt  has  recently  attacked  the  traditional 
classification  here  given,  which  has  come  down  from  the  classical 
works  of  James  and  Professor  Starbuck.  He  believes  that 
with  most  people  the  awakening  is  "a  gradual  and  almost 
imperceptible  process,  with  an  occasional  intensification  during 
adolescence.  Many,  perhaps  most,  religious  adolescents  have 
a  number  of  these  emotional  experiences  which  may  last  for  a 
few  moments  only  or  for  days  and  weeks."  In  churches  which 
lay  no  special  emphasis  on  conversion  as  a  unique  experience, 
"no  great  notice  is  taken  of  these  states  of  excitement.  .  .  In 
those  denominations  on  the  other  hand  .  .  which  teach  the 
necessity  of  a  conversion  experience,  some  one  of  the  many 
emotional  stirrings  of  adolescence  is  singled  out  as  the  conver- 
sion, and  the  others  are  ignored  and  largely  forgotten,"  19. 
Professor  Pratt's  contentions  deserve  serious  study  and  fresh 
examination  of  the  evidence.  Until  this  is  done,  it  is  probably 
more  conservative  to  follow  the  usual  classification. 

V — Role  of  the  Subconscious  in  Adolescent  Awakenings 

Children  learn  largely  by  subconscious  observation  of  what 
goes  on  about  them,  which  later  they  imitate  and  so  consciously 
master.  This,  for  instance,  is  the  way  that  they  learn  to  speak. 
An  adult  in  a  foreign  country,  in  a  short  time,  subconsciously 
acquires  more  of  the  language  which  he  constantly  hears  spoken 
about  him  than  he  could  have  gained  by  years  of  conscious 
application  to  dictionary  and  grammar  at  home.  He  learns 
the  language  in  the  largely  subconscious  manner  that  a  child 
learns  his  mother  tongue. 

The  religious  sentiment  develops  during  childhood  in  a 
similar  way.  Through  the  years  when  religion  has  seemed 
external,  and  there  has  been  little  apparent  comprehension  of 
its  inward  significance,  the  religious  sentiment  of  the  child  has 
been  gradually,  and  for  the  most  part  subconsciously,  acquiring 


246  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

appreciation  of  the  practices  and  beliefs,  virtues  and  ideals, 
inculcated  by  the  religion  of  his  elders.  Love  and  reverence 
for  God,  Christ  and  church  have  been  gradually  growing  up 
within  him.  If  his  development  has  been  symmetrical,  and  there 
has  been  little  resistance  to  it  by  other  impulses  of  his  nature, 
the  youth  may  sometimes  find  himself  in  full  conscious  posses- 
sion of  this  enlarged  sentiment.  In  his  case  this,  has  been  the 
outcome  of  continuous  growth,  without  any  definite  periods  of 
transition.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  his  gradually  awakening 
religious  sentiment  progresses  less  rapidly  in  the  realization 
of  ideals  and  acquirement  of  virtues  than  his  conscience  dictates, 
he  may  suffer  from  an  aching  sense  of  incompleteness,  and  be 
compelled  to  assist  the  progress  of  the  religious  sentiment  by 
conscious  volition.  And  if  there  are  elements  in  his  personality 
• — habits,  beliefs,  tastes,  ideals,  not  to  say  vices — that  vigorously 
resist  the  promptings  of  his  religious  sentiment,  these  elements 
will  appear  to  him  sinful,  and  loyalty  to  the  religious  sentiment 
will  demand  of  him  a  heroic  struggle  for  their  eradication.  In 
all  such  cases  either  conscious  effort  is  needed  to  assist  the 
subconscious  processes  at  work  (the  "effort"  type),  or  else 
he  must  learn  voluntarily  to  relax,  to  desist  from  conscious 
strivings,  and  "let  go,"  so  that  the  subconsciousness  may  auto- 
matically complete  the  ripening  of  the  religious  sentiment.  In 
all  volitional  cases,  as  Professor  Starbuck  says,  "the  function 
of  the  will  in  conversion,  seems  to  be  to  give  point  and  direction 
to  the  unconscious  [subconscious]  processes  of  growth,  which 
in  turn,  work  out  and  give  back  to  clear  consciousness  the 
revelation  striven  after."  "Let  one  do  all  in  his  power,  and  the 
nervous  system  will  do  the  rest";  or  said  in  another  way, 
"man's  extremity  is  God's  opportunity,"  20. 

It  is  easier  to  characterize  the  role  of  the  subconscious  in 
conversion  in  language  that  implies  acceptance  of  the 
hypothesis  of  the  co-conscious  than  in  language  that  does  not. 
It  will  not  be  difficult  for  the  reader  who  rejects  this 
hypothesis,  however,  and  who  believes  that  subconscious  pro- 
cesses are  wholly  physiological,  to  interpret  the  preceding  two 
paragraphs,  as  well  as  all  other  references  to  the  subconscious 
in  this  chapter,  in  the  manner  that  he  prefers. 

VI — Conditions   Determining    the   Types   of   Adolescent 
Awakening 

What  conditions  determine  which  type  of  religious  awaken- 


DETERMINING  CONDITIONS  247 

ing  any  particular  adolescent  is  most  likely  to  experience? 
These  are  furnished  in  part  by  his  religious  environment,  and 
in  part  by  his  own  personal  characteristics. 

Some  religious  denominations  and  individual  churches 
endeavor  to  effect  awakenings  of  the  conversion  types. 
Through  revivals,  testimony  meetings,  and  the  like,  the  ado- 
lescent's attention  is  constantly  drawn  to  the  experiences  of 
those  who  have  been  converted.  He  is  taught  to  think  of 
conversion  as  a  mark  of  divine  favor.  In  the  not  very  remote 
past,  he  was  sometimes  led  to  believe  that  no  one  can  feel 
assured  that  he  has  been  accepted  by  God  unless  he  undergoes 
startling  experiences  of  some  kind.  Professor  Coe  conducted 
a  careful  investigation  into  the  experiences  of  persons  whose 
religious  sentiments  evidently  took  shape  in  such  religious 
environments.  He  found  that  conversions  take  place  in  nine 
out  of  ten  persons  who  combine  these  three  qualifications:  (1) 
expectation  and  desire  for  conversion,  (2)  temperaments  of  an 
emotional  and  sensitive  as  opposed  to  an  unemotional  and  intel- 
lectual sort,  and  (3)  passive  suggestibility  (so  as  to  be  devoid 
of  initiative  when  hypnotized)  and  with  a  tendency  to  auto- 
matisms (such  as  hallucination,  striking  dreams,  visions,  violent 
movements  under  excitement  like  hysterical  laughing  and  weep- 
ing). If  any  one  of  these  qualifications  is  lacking,  the  prob- 
ability that  the  person  can  experience  conversion  is  reduced. 
Persons  possessing  the  opposite  of  all  three  qualifications  are 
temperamentally  and  constitutionally  incapable  of  the  particular 
form  of  awakening  called  conversion  although  they  may  become 
very  earnest  Christians,  21. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  denominations  and  individual 
churches  that  seek  to  cultivate  continuous  religious  growth 
rather  than  conversions  among  their  young  people.  Con- 
firmation classes  and  other  thoughtful  and  gradual  methods 
of  religious  instruction  are  employed  in  preference  to  revivals 
and  missions.  In  such  environments,  although  no  careful 
inquiry  has  been  made  corresponding  to  Professor  Coe's  inves- 
tigation of  the  conversion  type,  the  evidence  seems  to  indicate 
that  adolescents  are  much  more  likely  to  experience  continuous 
growth  than  conversion.  However,  a  mild  spontaneous 
awakening  at  the  time  of  taking  first  communion  is  said  not 
to  be  uncommon  among  Catholic  adolescents,  whose  faces 
shine  with  happiness  as  they  inwardly  feel  the  significance  of 
the  sacrament.  A  similar  phenomenon  among  Lutheran 


248  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

adolescents  is  described  in  the  closing  stanzas  of  Tegner's 
poem,  "The  Children  of  the  Lord's  Supper,"  translated  by 
Longfellow. 

Professor  Starbuck  believes  that  conditions  are  rendered 
more  favorable  for  continuous  religious  growth  if  children 
are  kept  reasonably  free  from  dogmas  which  they  are 
incapable  of  understanding,  if  their  doubts  and  other  needs 
are  wisely  and  sympathetically  met  whenever  they  arise,  and 
if  they  have  been  brought  up  so  as  to  have  a  certain  healthy 
mixture  of  faith  and  doubt.  However,  he  adds,  that  at  the 
present  time  and  with  the  conditions  under  which  we  live, 
growth  does  not  usually  come  so  harmoniously.  Physiological 
development  during  adolescence  is  not  continuous,  for  that 
matter.  Some  sort  of  friction  and  clash  is  therefore  almost 
sure  to  arise,  "unless  the  youth  is  so  happily  constituted  that 
nature  works  out  the  result  for  him  and  he  wakens  up  to  the 
fact  that  he  is  a  full-grown  spirit."  He  concludes  with  this 
thought  provoking  comment:  "A  few  persons  seem  to  have  an 
uneventful  development  because  they  do  not  leave  the  religion 
of  childhood,  perhaps  never  wake  up  to  an  immediate  realiza- 
tion of  religion.  They  raise  the  question  whether  it  would 
not  have  been  conducive  to  growth  even  to  have  suffered  a  little 
on  the  rack  of  doubt  and  storm  and  stress,"  22. 

William  James  eloquently  described  a  religious  type  of  mind 
free  from  the  doubts  and  struggles  of  conversion  which  he 
called  "the  religion  of  healthy  mindedness."  Emerson,  Theo- 
dore Parker,  Edward  Everett  Hale,  Walt  Whitman,  and 
adherents  of  various  faith  cures  are  cited  by  him  as  examples. 
They  are  attractive  types  in  many  ways.  Yet  one  wonders 
if  there  is  not  much  truth  in  James'  comment,  "one  can  but 
recognize  in  such  writers  as  these  the  presence  of  a  tempera- 
ment organically  weighted  on  the  side  of  cheer  and  fatally 
forbidden  to  linger.  .  .  over  the  darker  respects  of  the 
universe.  In  some  individuals  optimism  may  even  become 
quasi-pathological.  The  capacity  for  even  a  transient  sadness 
or  a  momentary  humility  seems  cut  off  from  them  as  bv^a  kind 
of  congenital  anaesthesia,"  23.  Perhaps  the  religion  of 
"healthy  mindedness"  is  not  always  so  healthv  after  all.  He 
suggests  that,  since  the  evil  facts  are  as  genuine  parts  of 
nature  as  the  good  ones,  the  philosophic  presumption  should 
be  that  they  have  some  rational  significance,  and  that 
religions  of  deliverance,  like  Christianity  and  Buddhism  mani- 


ADULTS  249 

fest  a  higher  development  in  their  insistence  that  man  "must 
die  to  an  unreal  life  before  he  can  be  born  into  the  real  life," 
i.  e.,  be  converted,  24. 

Possibly  race  has  something  to  do  with  the  matter.  The 
Latin  races,  on  the  whole,  James  thought  more  disposed  to 
the  religion  of  healthy-mindedness  and  the  Germanic  races  to 
the  conversion  types,  25.  There  have  been  famous  conversions 
among  Latins,  however;  one  thinks  at  once  of  those  of  St. 
Augustine  and  St.  Francis  of  Assissi.  Both  of  these,  how- 
ever, took  place  in  adult  life.  There  may  be  some  significance 
in  the  fact  that  the  Roman  Catholic  religion  has  its  strongest 
hold  among  Latin  races.  For  its  training  of  the  young  has 
been  on  the  whole  more  favorable  to  continuous  growth  rather 
than  conversion. 

Whatever  may  be  the  preferable  type  of  awakening  for 
other  adolescents,  it  can  be  positively  affirmed  that  those  who 
have  actually  led  vicious  or  seriously  wayward  lives  ought 
to  undergo  the  severe  crisis  of  conversion.  Such  cases  do  not 
merely  require  the  completion  and  bringing  to  consciousness 
of  an  enlarged  sentiment  in  an  hitherto  incomplete  personality, 
but  a  sharp  break  with  old  habits  and  a  thorough  reformation 
of  the  character.  Where  an  old  self  must  be  uprooted  and 
destroyed,  not  simply  outgrown,  conversion  is  indispensable. 

While,  on  the  whole,  conversion  experiences  seem  to  the 
author  to  guarantee  a  profounder  development  of  character 
on  the  religious  side,  he  does  not  mean  unreservedly  to  favor 
religious  revivals.  The  trouble  with  revivals  is  that  in  the 
majority  of  instances,  as  we  shall  see,  they  do  not  effect 
conversions  at  all,  but  only  pseudo-conversions. 

VII — The  Religious  Sentiment  in  Adults 

As  in  the  case  of  the  wayward  adolescent,  so  of  hitherto 
irreligious  adults,  the  acceptance  of  religion  implies  that  the 
religious  sentiment  must  triumph  over  much  in  the  personality 
that  is  unfavorable  to  it.  After  the  character  in  its  main 
outlines  has  received  its  set  during  adolescence,  it  is  difficult 
for  a  new  interest  to  become  established.  For  this  to  occur 
means  a  terrific  struggle,  and  a  conversion  of  the  "sense  of 
sin"  type.  So  nearly  all  cases  in  which  a  genuine  religious 
awakening  takes  place  in  adult  life  are  conversions  of  this 
type.  This  remark  does  not  apply,  of  course,  to  revival 
pseudo-conversions,  nor  to  cases  where  considerations  of 


250  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

courtship  or  business  lead  a  young  man  to  join  a  church 
without  having  really  acquired  profound  religious  convictions. 
Particularly  dramatic  adult  conversions  are  those  of  drunk- 
ards and  other  derelicts  that  are  sometimes  effected  in  the 
work  of  the  Salvation  Army  and  other  missionary  societies 
like  those  described  in  Harold  Begbie's  "Twice  Born  Men." 

When  an  adult  changes  from  one  religious  faith  to  another 
that  is  radically  different — say  a  Catholic  becomes  a  Protest- 
ant or  a  Jew  becomes  a  Christian, — sweeping  changes  in 
beliefs,  habits,  ideals,  and  associations  are  involved.  He  must 
therefore  ordinarily  undergo  a  conversion  of  an  extreme  type ; 
unless  again,  the  change  in  religious  profession  is  made  merely 
as  a  matter  of  expediency,  and  without  any  real  alteration 
of  convictions.  Since  such  changes  in  faith  imply  a  victory 
in  heroic  struggles  that  few  are  willing  to  undergo,  they 
rarely  occur.  An  adult  who  forsakes  the  faith  of  his  fathers 
generally  ceases  to  profess  any  religion  at  all.  His  religious 
sentiment  becomes  gradually  dissolved,  and  the  ideals  and 
loyalties  that  it  once  contained  either  are  retained  in  purely 
moral  sentiments  devoid  of  religion  or  else  they  are  lost  alto- 
gether. For  this  reason,  it  is  seldom  wise  to  advise  an  adult 
to  change  his  religious  faith.  As  a  rule,  he  had  better  adhere 
to  the  communion  of  h^s  fathers,  and  endeavor  to  do  what  he 
can  to  make  it  more  liberal  and  enlightened.  The  religious 
sentiment  normally,  as  we  have  seen,  begins  its  growth  in 
childhood,  and  becomes  enlarged  and  enriched  during 
adolescence.  To  attempt  to  ur>root  it,  and  substitute  a  new 
religious  sentiment  during  adult  life  is  rarely  successful.  This 
does  not  apply,  of  course,  to  transferring  from  one  Protestant 
denomination  to  another;  since  to  the  lavman.  at  least,  most 
Protestant  denominations  are  practically  alike,  and  such 
transference  involves  no  alteration  of  the  religious  sentiment 
whatever. 

After  the  religious  sentiment  has  normally  awakened  during 
adolescence,  what  is  its  ordinary  growth  in  later  life?  Most 
persons  probably  experience  continuously  increasing  insight 
and  appreciation  throughout  life.  The  Christian  constantly 
grows  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  of  his  Lord  and  Saviour. 
To  be  sure,  for  many  there  probably  is  less  emotional  turbu- 
lence than  during  adolescence.  But  this  is  only  because  still 
waters  run  deep.  The  religious  sentiment  has  become 
thoroughly  established,  and  proceeds  without  opposition  in 


PSEUDO-CONVERSIONS  251 

its  guidance  of  the  person's  thoughts  and  feeling  and  actions. 
Married  folk  love  each  other,  not  less  but  more,  because  they 
no  longer  feel  the  more  exciting  and  ecstatic  thrills  of  court- 
ship days.  For  them  it  is  no  longer  necessary  every  hour  to 
have  fresh  verbal  assurances  of  constancy  and  devotion;  these 
are  proved  in  the  course  of  living  itself;  only  the  shallow, 
newly  acquired  sentiment  of  love,  gains  its  sustenance  in  such 
ways,  and  needs  thus  to  protect  itself  against  frequent  temp- 
tations to  fickleness.  The  same  principle  holds  in  regard  to 
the  love  and  reverence  for  God.  Downright  disloyalty  to  Him 
does  not  occur  among  His  saints,  26. 

Among  some  adults,  however,  especially  those  of  the  tem- 
peramental types  liable  to  experience  conversion  during 
adolescence,  the  attainment  of  new  planes  of  growth  and 
insight  dawns  upon  consciousness  in  a  manner  similar  to  a 
conversion  or  spontaneous  awakening.  For  such  persons  the 
new  life  begun  at  conversion  suddenly  comes  to  consciousness 
in  still  greater  richness  after  it  has  been  practised  for  some 
time.  This  is  known  as  Sanctification.  The  interested  reader 
is  referred  to  the  accounts  by  Professor  Starbuck  (27)  and 
William  James,  28. 

VIII — Pseudo-Conversions  and  Revivals 

It  is  important  not  to  confuse  religious  conversions,  a 
normal  type  of  awakening  of  the  religious  sentiment,  with 
other  mental  phenomena  that  present  somewhat  similar  charac- 
teristics. 

During  the  course  of  religious  revivals,  very  many  people 
believe  that  they  are  converted  and  show  remarkable  outward 
marks  of  some  sort  of  mental  experience,  who  later  prove  not 
to  have  been  converted  at  all.  Such  persons  had  experienced 
no  awakening  of  the  religious  sentiment,  either  because  in 
their  cases  there  was  no  religious  sentiment  present  in  their 
subconsciousness  that  could  be  awakened,  or  because  the 
revival  did  not  affect  them  sincerely  and  profoundly  enough — 
notwithstanding  their  possible  tears,  shouting  and  hysteria — 
to  awaken  the  sentiment  and  make  it  an  integral  part  of  the 
conscious  personality.  Such  experiences  may  be  known  as 
pseudo-conversions. 

The  revival  can  easily  be  understood  in  the  light  of  two 
well-known  psychological  principles:  (1)  a  man  is  extremely 
susceptible  to  the  ideas,  emotions,  and  actions  of  other  human 


252  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

beings.  This  is  what  in  the  preceding  chapter  was  called 
suggestion,  sympathy  and  imitation.  (2)  There  is  a  marked 
tendency  in  man  for  the  idea  of  an  action  to  result  in  the 
action  itself,  unless  inhibited  by  other  ideas  or  impulses.  This 
is  the  so-called  law  of  ideo-motor  action,  29.  For  instance,  think 
hard  of  raising  your  hand,  but  don't  raise  it.  Do  you  not  feel 
a  strong  impulse  to  raise  the  hand,  which,  however,  is  inhib- 
ited? Think  similarly  of  walking,  of  singing  a  familiar  hymn, 
of  eating  some  favorite  food,  etc.  The  secret  of  successful 
hypnotism  is  to  give  the  subject  ideas  of  various  actions  that 
the  hypnotiser  desires  him  to  do,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
remove  the  ordinary  inhibitory  ideas  that  would  prevent  him 
from  acting  upon  them  under  ordinary  conditions. 

The  successful  revivalist  may  not  have  studied  psychology, 
but  he  is  always  a  past  master  in  the  employment  of  these 
two  principles.  His  purpose  is  to  give  members  of  his  audience 
the  idea  of  coming  to  the  altar,  at  the  same  time  removing 
the  ordinary  inhibitions  that  would  prevent  them  from  doing 
so.  If  he  can  induce  this  action  in  the  most  suggestible  of  the 
audience,  he  can  count  on  the  action  spreading  automatically 
to  those  suggestible  in  the  next  degree,  and  then  in  the  next, 
and  so  on,  until  a  large  number  have  come  to  the  altar. 

A  short  time  afterward,  most  of  the  so-called  converts  of 
a  revival  lose  all  interest  in  religion,  and  many  of  them  are 
quite  ready  to  laugh  at  the  experience,  and  wonder  how  the 
evangelist  induced  them  to  make  such  professions. 

The  remarkable  thing  about  revivals  is  not  that  most  of  the 
so-called  converts  are  not  converts  at  all,  but  only  pseudo- 
converts.  This  is  what  we  should  expect.  Conversion,  as  we 
have  seen,  is  the  awakening  in  consciousness  of  a  religious 
sentiment  that  has  been  in  the  course  of  gradual  growth, 
probably  ever  since  early  childhood.  Performances  induced 
in  a  crowded  meeting  by  methods  of  suggestion  are  not  neces- 
sarily awakening  of  sentiments  where  subconscious  growth  is 
nearly  completed.  They  need  not  be  responses  to  anything 
deepseated  in  character  at  all.  Pseudo-conversions  need  no 
further  explanation.  What  does  require  explanation  is  that  a 
few — usually  only  extremely  few — revival  converts  retain  a 
permanent  religious  interest  throughout  life,  and  prove  to  have 
experienced  genuine  conversion. 

The  explanation  clearly  is,  that  the  permanent  revival 
converts  are  nearly  always  persons  who  have  grown  up  in 


OTHER  AWAKENINGS  253 

religious  surroundings  and  probably  have  been  in  such  sur- 
roundings recently,  so  that  they  have  well  developed  sub- 
conscious religious  sentiments.  Such  persons  are  ready  to 
experience  genuine  conversion.  The  revival  in  such  cases 
sometimes  acts  as  a  stimulus,  and  more  quickly  effects  the 
awakening  of  sentiments  that  would  in  the  normal  course  of 
events  have  become  conscious  later  on.  In  other  cases,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  the  revival  probably  gives  an  extra  push  that 
is  really  indispensable  to  bring  the  sentiment  to  consciousness 
and  so  to  secure  its  completion.  Therefore  the  revival  probably 
benefits  a  few  individuals. 

But  a  far  greater  number  of  persons  are  harmed  by  revivals. 
The  harm  done  can  be  summed  up  under  four  heads.  (1)  Revi- 
vals unduly  excite  many  adolescents,  making  them  nervous  and 
morbid  at  what  in  any  event  is  a  period  of  delicate  mental  and 
physical  readjustment.  (2)  Revivals  often  discourage  many 
persons  who  are  led  to  look  for  conversion,  but  for  whom  con- 
version is  temperamentally  impossible.  Such  persons  often  re- 
proach themselves  for  sinful  indifference  because  they  cannot  be- 
come overwrought  like  more  suggestible  folk,  and  so  they  fear 
that  they  are  not  Christians.  (3)  Revivals  cheapen  religion  in 
the  minds  of  many  pseudo-converts.  Having  themselves  passed 
through  what  they  were  told  was  conversion,  they  think  that  all 
conversions  are  like  their  own  pitiful  pseudo-conversions,  and 
that  religious  people  who  fancy  that  they  have  passed  through 
some  deep  experience  that  has  enriched  their  lives  and  given 
them  a  comforting  sense  of  God's  presence  and  help,  are  only 
unusually  credulous  and  simple  minded  dupes.  (4)  Revivals 
impede  the  advance  of  liberal  religion.  Since  the  revivalist 
wishes  to  evoke  ideas  and  emotions  that  are  possessed  by  all 
of  his  audience,  he  must  appeal  to  the  ideas  and  emotions  of 
their  childhood.  So  his  appeal  is  always  to  the  religion  of  a 
generation  ago.  He  thus  is  nearly  always  a  bigot,  narrow 
and  intolerant  in  his  attitude  to  those  who  know  anything  about 
science, — especialy  about  the  conception  of  evolution  and  the 
scientific  study  of  the  Bible.  In  an  age  when  religious  doctrines 
must  be  thoroughly  reconstructed,  if  religion  is  not  to  lose  its 
hold  upon  college  graduates  and  intelligent  people  generally, 
the  revivalist  blindly  and  stupidly  resists  all  attempts  at  pro- 
gress, 30. 

IX — Non-Religious  Awakenings 
Experiences  in  some  respects  similar  to  religious  awakenings 


254  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

take  place  in  connection  with  other  changes  in  character  and 
personality.  A  vocation,  rightly  chosen,  is  a  fundamental  ex- 
pression of  one's  personality.  It  therefore  is  the  object  of  a 
sentiment.  Some  young  men  so  gradually  grow  into  preference 
for  a  vocation  that  they  cannot  say  when  they  first  knew  that 
they  had  made  their  choice  of  a  life  work.  Others  undergo 
many  painful  efforts  and  struggles,  including,  perhaps,  mis- 
taken experiments,  before  they  consciously  reach  the  right  de- 
cision. Writers  of  romances  have  long  made  us  aware  that 
similar  principles  hold  true  of  the  awakening  of  the  sentiment 
of  love.  Awareness  of  love  may  be  a  continuous  growth  from 
a  childhood  friendship.  Again,  it  may  be  the  outcome  of  a 
severe  crisis,  prior  to  which  either  the  hero  or  the  heroine  has 
been  unaware  of  the  love  which  subconsciously  they  had  for 
each  other.  Or  the  awakening  may  be  one  of  the  mixed 
types — involving  a  joyous  spontaneous  awakening,  or  a  period 
of  doubts  or  storm  and  stress.  Professor  Starbuck  furnishes 
various  instances  of  conversions  and  spontaneous  awakenings 
that  are  not  of  a  religious  character.  Among  these  are  cases 
in  which  a  study  which  the  adolescent  has  long  been  unsuccess- 
fully struggling  to  understand  suddenly  becomes  clear  to  him. 
He  and  James  each  furnishes  an  instance  of  "falling  out  of 
love,"  in  which  a  sentiment  of  love  that  has  given  the  person 
much  trouble  and  has  interfered  with  his  or  her  best  interests 
has  suddenly  become  eradicated  as  a  result  of  previous  struggles 
and  subconscious  development.  James  also  furnishes  instances 
in  which  the  religious  sentiment  itself  has  been  eradicated  in  a 
manner  analogous  to  conversion,  as  a  result  of  subconscious 
doubts  that  spontaneously  burst  upon  consciousness,  and  the 
persons  after  their  "conversions"  regarded  themselves  as  be- 
lievers in  no  religion,  31. 

Does  this  mean  that,  psychologically  considered,  continuous 
growth,  conversion,  and  other  forms  of  religious  awakening 
are  in  no  respect  different  in  principle  from  certain  non-relig- 
ious experiences?  By  no  means.  In  cases  of  religious  awaken- 
ing the  chief  object  of  the  religious  sentiment  is  God — that 
is,  an  Agency,  believed  to  be  different  from  his  ordinary  ego 
and  yet  psychical  in  character.  This  Agency  is  regarded  with 
love  and  reverence,  and  the  supreme  desire  is  that  one's  char- 
acter shall  be  organized  so  as  to  conform  to  His  commands. 
In  the  non-religious  instances  the  sentiment  has  no  such  object 
as  this.  It  follows  that  the  awakening  of  no  other  sentiment 


RELATION  TO  GOD  255 

will  give  to  the  individual  the  means  to  conserve  his  moral 
values  through  such  an  Agency.  Love  of  God,  love  of  a 
woman,  and  love  of  a  vocation  all  involve  the  awakening  of 
sub-conscious  processes,  they  all  involve  the  organization  of 
emotions  of  loyalty  and  devotion  about  an  object.  However, 
the  emotion  of  reverence  is  not  present  in  the  same  sense  in  the 
latter  two.  While  all  three  normally  involve  some  heightening 
of  ideals  and  strengthening  of  the  will,  the  moral  values 
recognized  in  each  case  and  the  changes  in  character  effected 
are  fundamentally  different. 

X — The  Relation  of  God  to  Religious  Awakenings 

Religious  awakening  has  thus  far  been  viewed  as  a  psycholog- 
ical process  involving  the  growth  of  the  religious  sentiment, 
largely  in  the  subconsciousness.  The  manner  in  which  the 
individual  becomes  aware  of  the  sentiment,  and  enters  into  full 
conscious  possession  and  enjoyment  of  it  determines . whether 
the  experience  is  one  of  continuous  growth,  conversion,  or  of  a 
mixed  type.  Does  it  follow  that  God  is  not  really  involved  in 
religious  awakenings  at  all?  Are  they  purely  natural  pro- 
cesses? 

Atheists,  of  course,  would  answer  these  questions  emphatic- 
ally in  the  affirmative.  Agnostics  would  either  also  reply  in  the 
affirmative,  or  regard  the  problem  as  incapable  of  solution. 
However,  the  facts  do  not  necessitate  such  conclusions.  The 
testimony  of  those  who  have  experienced  religious  awakenings 
is  unanimous  that  in  their  opinion  they  come  from  God.  Such 
testimony  of  course  by  no  means  decides  the  matter ;  but  it  is 
worth  something.  Perhaps  it  may  fairly  be  said  to  put  the 
burden  of  proof  on  those  who  claim  that  religious  awakenings 
do  not  come  from  God,  but  are  purely  subjective. 

Those  who  believe  that  religious  awakenings  do  come  from 
God  differ  somewhat  as  to  the  manner  in  which  they  so  come. 
Some  writers,  like  Dr.  Cutten,  and  (with  more  hesitation) 
William  James,  believe  that  in  such  experiences  an  external 
God,  apparently  outside  of  us  just  as  we  are  outside  of  one 
another,  influences  the  subconsciousness  of  the  individual.  This 
is  quite  possibly  the  case,  so  far  as  the  known  facts  go,  and 
is  in  accordance  with  the  testimony  of  those  who  have  had  such 
experiences.  On  this  view,  it  will  be  observed,  the  conception 
of  God  is  necessary  on  the  plane  of  psychology,  in  order  to 
explain  the  facts. 


256  THE  RELIGIOUS  SENTIMENT 

Other  students  of  the  question  offer  a  philosophical  explana- 
tion, and  not  a  psychological  one.  God,  they  argue,  is  not  a 
scientific  explanation  for  a  psychological  fact  any  more  than 
for  an  astronomical  or  a  chemical  fact.  On  the  plane  of  the 
psychology  of  religion,  just  as  of  any  other  science,  phenomena 
should  be  explained  on  a  purely  naturalistic  basis.  For  psychol- 
ogy religious  awakening  is  a  natural  process  just  as  for  physics 
gravitation  is  a  natural  process.  But  philosophic  ally  consid- 
ered, God  is  immanent  in  all  natural  processes,  those  described 
by  physics  and  psychology  alike.  According  to  this  theory 
a  person  experiencing  a  religious  awakening  becomes  aware  of 
an  immanent  God,  present  in  all  things,  but  coming  to  His 
highest  expression  in  conscious  beings,  and  most  of  all  in  pro- 
found and  enduring  religious  experiences,  32. 

All  this  will  become  clearer  as  we  proceed.  This  question 
will  be  considered  at  greater  length  at  the  end  of  the  follow- 
ing chapter,  in  connection  with  prayer.  The  reader  may 
well  reserve  his  decision  in  regard  to  it,  however,  until  he  has 
completed  Part  III,  in  which  the  general  philosophical  ques- 
tion of  evidence  for  the  existence  of  God  is  taken  up.  For,  if 
one  finds  the  evidence  sufficient  to  convince  him  that  there 
is  a  God,  he  will  have  no  difficulty  in  believing  that  the  individual 
in  some  sense  comes  into  consciousness  of  Him  in  his  religious 
awakening. 

REFERENCES 

*E.  D.  STARBTTCK,  The  Psychology  of  Religion. 

*WILLIAM  JAMES,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience.,  lectures  IV-XV. 

*GEORGE  A.  COE,  The  Spiritual  Life.     Education  in  Religion  and  Morals. 

GEORGE  A.  COE,  Psychology  of  Religion,  Chapter  X. 
*EDWARD  S.  AMES,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  Part  III. 
*GEOROE  B.  CUTTEN,  Psychological  Phenomena  of  Christianity,  Chapters 

XIII,  XIV,  XVIII-XX. 

*JAMES  B.  PRATT,  Psychology  of  Religious  Belief,  Part  III.     The  Relig- 
ious Consciousness,  Chapters  V-IX. 

G.  E.  DAwsoN/TTie  Child  and  His  Religion. 

G.  STANLEY  HALL,  Adolescence. 

IRVING  KING,  The  Psychology  of  Child  Development. 

AMY  ELIZA  TANNER,  The  Child. 

J.  SULLY,  Studies  in  Childhood. 

WILLIAM  JAMES,  Principles  of  Psychology.     Psychology,  Briefer  Course. 

ALEXANDER  F.  SHAND,  Foundations  of  Character. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
PRAYER 

I — The  Conversational  Nature  of  Thought  and  Prayer  (1) 
As  has  been  shown  in  Chapter  XIV,  the  self  of  an  individual 
develops  through  intercourse  with  other  persons.  Now,  social 
intercourse  very  largely  involves  the  use  of  language.  Imita- 
tion of  others  prompts  the  infant  to  employ  his  vocal  cords 
in  speech  as  soon  as  the  nerve  cells  are  ripened  sufficiently  to 
enable  the  requisite  reflexes  to  function,  and  he  rapidly  acquires 
skill  in  the  use  of  the  language  he  hears  spoken  about  him. 
Since  language  is  heard  by  the  infant  in  the  conversation  of 
others  before  he  is  able  to  speak  himself,  and  since  his  first  use 
of  speech  is  in  conversation  with  others,  it  follows  as  a  natural 
consequence  that  his  private  thinking  also  very  often  assumes 
a  conversational  form.  Sometimes,  as  he  plays,  he  uncon- 
sciously thinks  aloud,  and  others  hear  what  he  says.  Such 
conversational  thinking  may  all  be  addressed  to  an  imaginary 
alter,  who  makes  appropriate  replies,  so  that  the  child  carries 
on  a  complete  dialogue,  or  it  may  assume  a  simpler  monologue 
form,  2. 

Adults  similarly  carry  on  much  of  their  private  thought  in 
conversational  form.  Perhaps  the  best  illustrations  of  mono- 
logue thinking  are  cases  where  one  has  to  go  through  some 
routine  that  requires  close  attention  to  each  step  in  the  process, 
such  as  opening  the  combination  of  a  safe,  or  mixing  the 
ingredients  of  a  recipe.  In  such  instances,  if  the  reader  will 
observe  himself,  he  may  find  that  he  seems  to  hear  or  to  move 
his  lips  repeating  the  directions  for  each  step  in  the  process  in 
succession.  Or,  in  recalling  something  that  has  been  committed 
to  memory,  thought  naturally  falls  into  this  monologue  form. 
The  simplest  prayers,  not  greatly  different  in  principle  from 
magical  spells,  such  as  those  of  the  Toda  dairyman  priests, 
referred  to  in  Chapter  III,  are  of  this  type,  not  being  addressed 
to  any  one. 

The  thought  of  adults  often  assumes  the  form  of  a  dialogue. 
The  individual  carries  on  a  conversation  in  which  an  ego  and 
an  alter  participate.  Thus  a  man  may  debate  with  himself  as 

257 


258  PRAYER 

to  whether  he  had  better  do  this  or  that,  the  ego  taking  one 
side  and  the  alter  the  other;  or  the  alter  may  commend  or 
condemn  the  ego,  or  excuse  the  ego;  or,  if  a  person  is  angry 
at  himself,  the  alter  may  even  say  spiteful  things  to  hurt  the 
feelings  of  the  ego.  In  such  instances  one  feels  that  both  ego 
and  alter  are  really  to  be  identified  with  himself ;  or  if  the  alter 
is  not  himself,  it  is,  at  any  rate,  his  conscience.  On  other 
occasions,  the  alter  may  assume  the  role  of  another  person. 
The  ego  is  thought  to  be  asking  the  advice  of  an  absent  friend, 
and  the  alter  is  imagined  to  be  saying  what  the  friend  would 
probably  reply.  Before  an  interview  with  some  important 
personage  who  has  little  time  ,to  give,  or  who  must  be 
approached  tactfullv,  one  may  imagine  his  ego  suggesting 
this  and  that,  and  the  alter  making  the  probable  replies  that 
the  person  approached  would  be  most  likely  to  give.  While 
the  reader  may  think  it  an  exaggeration  to  claim  that  all  our 
private  thinking  whatever  is  conversational  in  character 
(though  some  authorities  have  maintained  this)  he  will  be 
convinced,  if  he  watches  his  mental  processes  for  a  day  or  two, 
that  at  least  a  great  deal  of  his  own  private  thinking  does 
assume  these  conversational  forms,  of  monologue  and  dialogue. 
Prayer,  as  practised  in  most  religions  (3)  assumes  the 
dialogue  form.  The  individual  who  prays  identifies  himself  with- 
the  ego,  and  addresses  his  prayers  to  an  alter,  who  he  believes  to 
be  superior  to  himself  in  power,  and  thus  able  to  effect  what  he 
could  not  accomplish  alone.  The  alter  in  the  primitive  religion 
might  be  a  fetich,  a  spirit  or  a  ghost,  or  one  of  the  gods.  In 
the  spiritual  religions  the  Alter  is  God, — a  Being  who  embodies 
the  highest  and  loftiest  aspirations  of  the  ego. 

The  self,  as  we  have  seen,  develops  through  social  inter- 
course with  other  persons.  We  may  now  add,  that  the  self  also 
develops  through  its  own  private  thinking,  "when  the  ego  holds 
conversations  with  alteri.  The  Alter  of  religious  prayer 
embodies  some  ideal  to  which  the  individual  aspires  in  his  own 
life,  some  value  which  he  seeks ;  the  Alter  is  in  some  sense  what 
he  would  be.  The  individual  through  prayer  in  some  measure 
is  strengthened  and  fortified,  and  enabled  to  realize  these  ideals 
in  his  own  life  and  character.  This  is  true,  not  only  in  the 
spiritual  religions,  but  also,  sometimes  at  least,  in  the 
higher  religions  of  the  naturalistic  type.  In  ancient  Greece  a 
family  would  have  its  own  tomb,  generally  near  the  house, 
where  all  its  ancestors  were  buried,  and  offerings  were  regularly 


CONVERSATIONAL  NATURE  259 

paid,  and  prayers  addressed.  "Thus,  the  ancestor  remained 
in  the  midst  of  his  relatives;  invisible,  but  always  present,  he 
continued  to  make  a  part  of  the  family,  and  to  be  its  father. 
Immortal,  happy,  divine,  he  was  still  interested  in  all  of  his 
whom  he  had  left  upon  the  earth.  He  knew  their  needs,  and 
sustained  their  feebleness,  and  .  .  .  (the  man)  .  .  .  who 
still  lived,  who  labored,  had  near  him  his  guides  and  supports — 
his  forefathers.  In  the  midst  of  difficulties,  he  invoked  their 
ancient  wisdom ;  in  grief,  he  asked  consolation  of  them ;  in 
danger,  he  asked  their  support,  and  after  a  fault,  their 
pardon,"  4. 

We  can  readily  perceive  that  ancestral  worship  of  this  sort 
as  it  existed  in  ancient  Greece  and  still  exists  in  China  and 
Japan,  must  be  a  great  source  of  comfort  and  strength. 
Through  such  prayer  the  worshipper  must  become  more  or  less 
like  his  ideal  of  his  ancestor.  And  this  ideal,  in  all  probability 
is  superior  morally  to  the  ancestor  himself.  We  idealize  those 
whom  we  love  and  revere.  Still,  such  an  ideal  clearly  has  its 
limitations.  It  must  be  too  nearly  on  the  human  level.  So, 
when  gods  are  worshipped,  who  belong  on  a  higher  plane 
altogether  than  human  beings,  the  possibility  of  idealisation 
will  be  greater  and  the  men  who  worship  such  gods  as  ideals 
will  often  receive  higher  uplift  than  worship  of  deceased  ances- 
tors could  afford.  When  polvtheism  gives  place  to  monotheism, 
instead  of  the  many  gods,  all  representing  differing  ideals  and 
none  standing  for  absolute  perfection  by  any  means,  appears 
the  worship  of  a  single  God  who  comprises  all  socially  recog- 
nized moral  perfection  within  Himself.  The  Alter  of  prayer 
then  for  the  first  time  embodies  the  very  highest  ideals  of  which 
man  is  able  to  conceive.  The  effect  upon  him  who  prays  will 
then  be  to  give  him  a  more  coherent,  unified  character,  and  to 
inspire  him  in  every  way  in  the  highest  manner  possible.  It 
has  been  shown  in  Part  I  that  the  general  advance  in  the  evolu- 
tion of  religion  from  the  natural  religions  to  the  spiritim! 
religions,  and,  within  the  latter,  from  narrower  to  wider 
horizons,  has  largely  consisted  in  constant  enlargement,  enrich- 
ment, and  purification  of  the  conceptions  of  the  divine.  This 
evolution  has  made  purer  and  loftier  Alteri  available  for 
prayer;  and,  in  that  way  individual  worshippers  have  been 
able  to  advance  in  moral  discernment  and  appreciation.  Such 
sublime  Alteri  are  the  God  of  Judaism  and  the  Christ  of  Chris- 
tianity. One  reason  why  these  religions  continue  to  live  is 


260  PRAYER 

because  their  Alteri  have  in  every  age  grown  with  increased 
Jewish  and  Christian  moral  and  religious  experience,  5. 

II — Types  of  Prayer 

A  classification  of  different  types  of  prayer  will  be  useful. 
The  distinction  between  Monologue  and  Dialogue  Prayers  ha? 
already  been  made.  Dialogue  prayers  may  be  subdivided  into 
Individual  and  Community  prayers.  In  the  former,  the  ego  is 
a  single  individual  praying  by  himself.  In  the  latter,  the  ego 
is  a  group  of  persons,  e.  g.,  a  congregation  in  a  church  or 
synagogue  praying  together.  In  the  case  of  community  prayer, 
it  is  not  essential  that  the  group  of  persons  repeat  the  prayer 
together;  they  may  do  so  or  a  minister  or  priest  may  repeat 
the  prayer  for  them;  the  prayer  may  constitute  part  of  a 
liturgy  or  it  may  be  an  "extemporaneous"  prayer  composed 
by  the  minister  upon  the  spot.  All  that  is  necessary  to  consti- 
tute a  community  prayer  is  that  a  group  feel  that  they 
personally  are  sharing  in  a  mutual  prayer  to  the  Alter  of  their 
religious  faith.  If  a  number  of  individuals  were  to  pray  in 
different  places  and  at  different  times  of  the  clay  for  a  common 
purpose,  the  prayer  in  most  respects  would  have  the  psycho- 
logical characteristics  of  a  Community  prayer. 

Each  of  these  types  of  prayer,  Individual  and  Community, 
may  be  subdivided  into  Aesthetic  and  Egoistic  prayers..  In  the 
Aesthetic  prayer,  attention  is  centered  upon  the  Alter;  in  the 
Egoistic  prayer,  attention  is  centered  upon  the  ego.  In  both 
types  the  Alter  is  recognized  to  be  superior  to  the  ego  in  moral 
worth  and  in  power,  and  the  attitude  of  the  ego  toward  the 
Alter  is  one  of  submission,  awe,  and  reverence.  But  in  the 
aesthetic  type,  attention  is  centered  on  the  Alter,  and  the 
prayer  assumes  the  form  of  praise  or  communion.  The  familiar 
hymn,  "Holy,  Holy,  Holy,  Lord  God  Almighty"  is  a  good 
example.  Many  of  the  Hebrew  Psalms  assume  this  form — for 
instance  the  twenty-fourth,  beginning,  "The  earth  is  the  Lord's, 
and  the  fulness  thereof."  Sometimes,  aesthetic  prayer  assumes 
an  extremely  mystical  form,  and  the  ego  seeks,  not  simply 
communion  with  the  Alter,  but  complete  identification  with  or 
absorption  in  the  Alter.  Miss  Strong  cites  a  Vedic  hymn 
illustrative  of  this: 

"Hail  to  thee,  mighty  Lord,  all  potent — Vishnu, 

Soul  of  the  Universe,  unchangeable, 

Holy,  eternal,  always  one  in  nature, 
Whether  revealed  as  Brahma,  Hari,  S'iva 


TYPES  261 

Creator  or  Preserver  or  Destroyer, 

I  come  to  Thee  for  refuge 

Renouncing  all  attachment  to  the  world, 

Longing  for  fulness  of   felicity, 

Extinction  of  myself,  absorption  into  Thee."6 

The  well  known  prayer  of  Marcus  Aurelius  is  a  noble  example 
of  this  attitude  at  its  best:  "Everything  harmonizes  with  me 
which  is  harmonious  to  thee,  O  Universe.  Nothing  for  me  is 
too  early  nor  too  late  which  is  in  due  time  for  thee.  Everything 
is  fruit  to  me  which  thy  seasons  bring.  O  Nature,  from  thee  are 
all  things,  in  thee  are  all  things,  to  thee  all  things  return,"  7. 
This  type  of  prayer  is  called  aesthetic,  because,  like  all  aesthetic 
contemplation,  the  individual  feels  drawn  out  of  himself  and  his 
own  needs  and  interests  into  a  larger  whole  of  some  sort.  If 
the  reader  will  consider  how  he  feels  when  in  the  presence  of 
some  painting  or  sculpture,  or  of  a  panorama  of  natural 
scenery,  or  when  listening  to  music  that  appeals  profoundly 
to  him,  he  will  recognize  how  such  an  experience  for  the  time 
being  takes  one  out  of  oneself  into  a  larger  life  and  is  satisfying 
for  that  reason.  Persons  very  fond  of  natural  scenery,  some- 
times treasure  the  memory  of  such  experiences  and  find  them 
of  help  in  hours  of  loneliness  and  depression,  as  is  illustrated  by 
Wordsworth's  Lines  Written  Above  Tintern  Abbey  and  Ode  to 
the  Daffodils. 

The  Egoistic  type  of  prayer  is  of  course  not  egotistical,  nor 
is  it  ordinarily  selfish  in  any  bad  sense  of  the  word.  In  it  the 
individual  seeks  some  benefit  to  himself,  and  his  effort  is  to 
disclose  his  needs  to  the  Alter  to  whom  he  looks  for  aid.  Prayers 
of  petition  and  confession  belong  here.  Egoistic  prayers  may 
be  Naturalistic  (i.  e.,  those  typical  of  naturalistic  religions 
as  described  in  Part  I),  in  which  material  goods  for  the  Ego 
are  sought ; — rain,  crops,  posterity,  long  life,  victory  in  war, 
omens,  oracles,  etc. ;  or  they  may  be  ethical,  in  which  some 
moral  benefit  to  the  ego  is  sought, — forgiveness  of  sins,  conver- 
sion, purity  of  heart,  wisdom,  self-control,  strength  for  the 
day's  work,  and  the  like.  Naturalistic  and  ethical  prayers  are 
often  made  for  material  and  moral  blessings  to  other  persons 
for  whose  benefit  the  individual  who  prays  is  concerned.  Such 
prayer  can  be  regarded  as  egoistic  in  the  sense  that  persons 
whose  welfare  is  a  matter  of  solicitude  to  the  individual 
virtually  constitute  a  part  of  his  larger  self  or  ego,  so  that  in 
the  mental  attitude  of  prayer  they  are  identified  with  himself 
in  contrast  to  the  Alter  from  whom  aid  is  sought.  Christian 


262  PRAYER 

illustrations  of  egoistic  prayers  will  readily  occur  to  the  reader. 
The  prayer  of  Socrates  in  the  Phaedrus  of  Plato  will  serve  as  a 
non-Christian  example  of  a  highly  ethical  type:  "Beloved  Pan, 
and  all  ye  other  gods  who  haunt  this  place,  give  me  beauty  in 
the  inward  soul ;  and  may  the  outward  and  inward  man  be 
at  one.  May  I  reckon  the  wise  to  be  the  wealthy,  and  may  I 
have  such  a  quantity  of  gold  as  a  temperate  man  and  he  only 
can  bear  and  carry,"  8. 

As  an  example  of  a  Community  prayer  for  the  most  part  of 
the  aesthetic  type,  one  might  cite  the  Te  Deum  Laudamus  (We 
Praise  Thee  O  God)  which  has  been  called  the  "greatest  hvmn 
of  the  Christian  church."  A  Jewish  community  prayer  of  the 
ethical  type  is  "Bless  our  children,  O  God,  and  help  us  so  to 
fashion  their  souls,  by  precept  and  example,  that  they  shall 
ever  love  the  good,  flee  from  sin,  revere  Thy  word  and  honor 
Thy  name.  May  they,  planted  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  flourish 
in  the  courts  of  our  God ;  may  they  guard  for  future  ages  the 
truths  revealed  to  their  forefathers,"  9. 

Ill — Merits  and  Limitations  of  Each  Type  of  Prayer 

Reserving  the  full  consideration  of  the  efficacy  of  prayer  to 
a  later  section  in  the  chapter,  it  will  be  convenient  at  this  point 
to  estimate  the  value  of  each  of  these  types  of  prayer.  The 
aesthetic  type  is  calming  and  comforting.  The  worshipper 
is  transported  from  his  ordinary  life,  with  its  cares,  its 
annoyances  and  limitations,  into  the  bosom  of  the  Infinite. 
Keen  aesthetic  joy  is  felt.  Relaxation  is  afforded  to  over- 
wrought nerves  and  fatigued  minds  and  bodies.  The  individual 
gains  confidence,  as  he  feels  himself  supported  by  power  greater 
than  that  of  his  conscious  self.  God  is  his  refuge,  and  he  feels 
strong  and  secure  in  the  everlasting  arms. 

The  naturalistic  type  of  prayer  in  this  age  of  scientific 
enlightenment,  has  almost  disappeared,  10.  People  as  a  rule 
know  too  much  of  the  uniformity  of  natural  law  to  believe  it 
possible  that  prayer  can  change  the  order  of  natural  events. 
The  ethical  type  of  prayer  is  of  value  for  the  promotion  of 
moral  discernment  and  reformation,  as  well  as  for  increase  of 
efficiency  in  all  good  deeds.  Confession  of  sins  forces  the  indi- 
vidual to  realize  his  shortcomings  and  sincerely  repent  of 
them.  At  the  same  time,  the  reinforcing  power  of  the  Alter 
enables  him  to  overcome  like  temptations  in  the  future.  Discern- 
ment of  duty,  clarification  of  moral  values  for  which  to  strive, 


TYPES  263 

and  consecration  to  the  call  of  service  are  all  effected  through 
ethical  prayer. 

No  one  of  these  types  of  prayer  should  be  used  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  the  others.  The  aesthetic  prayer,  employed  alone,  would 
lead  to  inactivity.  Absorbed  in  blissful  contemplation  of  God 
the  worshipper  would  forget  to  perform  his  obligations  to  his 
fellow  men.  The  worst  example  of  this  perhaps  is  to  be  found 
in  Brahmanism,  where  the  individual  worshipper  may  become 
so  absorbed  in  Brahma  as  to  be  indifferent  to  actual  suffering 
about  him ;  but  all  too  often  Christian  mystics  have  been  too 
intent  upon  the  bliss  of  private  devotion  to  be  of  much  active 
service  in  righting  the  wrongs  of  their  fellow  men.  Perhaps 
the  chief  danger  in  the  ethical  prayer  is  to  be  found  in  the 
development  of  a  morbid  sense  of  sin.  To  recognize  one's 
faults,  repent  of  them,  and  make  an  honest  attempt  to  overcome 
them,  is  a  healthful  effect  of  ethical  prayer.  But  to  brood  over 
real  or  fancied  wrong  doing  to  the  point  of  sickness  of  mind 
and  body  is  hurtful.  In  these  days  of  activity,  however,  there 
are  probably  more  persons  who  do  not  take  time  enough  for 
ethical  prayer  to  know  their  sins  than  there  are  who  spend 
so  much  time  grieving  over  them  that  they  become  morbid.  The 
remedy  for  the  dangers  attending  the  over  use  of  either  of 
these  types  of  prayer  is  of  course  to  make  use  of  the  other  type 
in  due  proportion. 

The  great  value  of  the  community  prayer  is  found  in  its 
development  of  the  social  sense  in  religion.  Consciousness  of 
"the  tie  that  binds"  is  found  in  public  worship  in  the  company 
of  co-religionists.  Sanity  in  moral  and  religious  thought, 
feeling,  and  action  is  gained  through  public  devotions.  If 
private  prayer  were  to  be  used  by  anyone  to  the  exclusion  of 
community  prayer  there  would  be  grave  danger  that  the  Alter 
of  such  an  individual  would  be  narrow  and  unsymmetrical.  Into 
his  conception  of  God  would  be  projected  the  narrow  prejudices 
and  bigotry  of  the  man  himself.  Prayer  to  God,  so  conceived, 
might  intensify  hatred  and  fanaticism.  But  community  worship 
is  comparatively  free  from  this  danger.  Common  worship 
loosens  the  individual's  prejudices,  and  affords  him  a  wider 
outlook.  More  virtues  are  opened  before  him  for  cultivation, 
and  more  opportunities  for  active  service  become  known  to 
him.  The  larger  the  religious  denomination,  the  longer  its 
history,  the  wider  its  dispersion  in  different  lands,  the  broader 
and  finer  is  likely  to  be  the  ideal  Alter  of  its  prayers.  This 


264  PRAYER 

is  one  reason  why  liberals  in  the  present  generation  should 
remain  in  communion  with  the  historic  religious  bodies  in  which 
they  have  been  nurtured.  Newly  organized  religious  commun- 
ions, through  their  inexperience  and  almost  inevitable 
absorption  in  a  few  limited  ideals,  are  bound  to  be  less  broad 
and  catholic  in  their  outlook.  Fanaticism  is  today  more  often 
found  among  the  radical  than  among  the  conservative  religious 
bodies.  This  consideration  also  affords  an  argument  in  favor 
of  the  federation  of  religious  organizations.  When  two  historic 
religious  denominations  can  unite,  a  wider  experience  in  the 
future  will  assure  them  a  finer  and  more  helpful  conception  of 
God  as  the  Alter  of  their  prayers.  What  broad  and  deep 
conceptions  of  God  will  be  afforded  to  the  American  of  a  few 
centuries  hence,  when  the  descendants  of  present  Protestants, 
Catholics,  and  Jews  form  an  organic  union,  and  bring  their 
various  rich  heritages  of  religious  experience  into  common 
worship  of  the  Father  whom  they  all  love  and  revere! 

It  goes  without  saying  that  private  prayer,  too,  has  its 
claims  upon  the  religious  man.  Public  prayer  cannot  be 
specific  enough  to  meet  all  his  private  wants.  He  needs  to  take 
the  details  of  his  daily  living  into  his  closet  with  his  God.  It 
is  easy  to  repeat,  "Lord,  be  merciful  to  us,  miserable  sinners," 
in  company  with  the  esteemed  people  one  sees  all  about  one  upon 
their  knees ;  it  seems  a  very  fashionable,  highly  respectable  thing 
to  do.  But  it  is  a  different  matter  to  say,  with  sincerity,  when 
all  by  oneself  with  one's  God, — "Lord,  be  merciful  to  me,  a 
miserable  sinner !  " 

The  conclusion,  then,  with  regard  to  the  various  types  of 
prayer  is,  that  each  has  its  value.  All  require  cultivation.  No 
one  can  cultivate  his  religious  life  to  best  advantage  without 
the  fellowship  and  sustaining  strength  of  men  and  women  of 
like  religious  profession.  On  the  contrary,  no  one  can  thrive 
religiously  without  private  personal  communion  with  the  great 
Alter  of  his  religious  experience.  Everyone  needs  the  uplift 
of  aesthetic  prayer  to  rise  above  the  humdrum  of  every  day 
life  with  its  ordinary  routine  of  details  and  problems ;  while 
every  one  needs  the  moral  cleansing  and  spiritual  reinforcement 
that  come  from  contact  with  his  Alter  as  moral  counsellor, 
whether  through  his  own  personal  initiative,  or  with  the  assist- 
ance of  his  father  confessor,  as  his  religious  upbringing  may 
dictate. 


THE  SUBCONSCIOUS  265 

IV — Prayer  and  the  Subconscious 

The  psychological  theory  of  prayer  is  chiefly  conceived  with 
the  relation  of  the  subconsciousness  to  the  conscious  self.  In 
prayer,  of  whatever  type,  the  worshipper  feels  the  presence  of 
power  that  is  greater  than  himself,  made  available  for  him 
through  the  Alter.  Psychologically  speaking,  this  reinforce- 
ment comes  from  the  subconscious. 

As  William  James  has  shown,  11,  we  all  possess  considerable 
reserve  powers  of  subconscious  energy.  We  ordinarily  desist 
from  a  piece  of  work  when  we  begin  to  feel  fatigue.  But  if  an 
unusual  necessity  drives  us  on,  we  continue,  and  the  fatigue 
passes  away,  and  we  feel  fresher  than  before.  We  have  gotten 
our  "second  wind."  Stored  up  in  the  brain  and  nervous  system, 
as  well  as  elsewhere  in  the  organism,  are  large  reserve  resources 
of  energy  of  which  ordinarily  we  are  unaware.  There  are  vari- 
ous ways  of  tapping  these  sources.  A  new  position  of  respon- 
sibility may  cause  a  man  to  wake  up  and  to  achieve  great  things 
of  which  neither  he  nor  anyone  else  had  deemed  him  capable,  as 
in  the  case  of  Cromwell  and  Grant.  Aroused  by  an  emergency 
at  the  siege  of  Delhi,  Colonel  Baird-Smith,  by  making  free  use 
of  brandy  and  opium,  was  able  to  tap  his  subconscious  sources 
of  energy,  although  he  was  suffering  with  scurvy,  and  had  one 
foot  threatened  with  mortification.  He  performed  almost  super- 
human feats  of  courage  and  kept  together  a  band  of  devoted 
soldiers  until  relief  came.  Ascetic  discipline  in  Yoga  practices 
and  the  Spiritual  Exercises  of  Ignatius  Loyola  have  turned 
dreamy  orientals  and  discouraged  Jesuits  into  marvelous  men 
of  action.  A  suggestive  idea  often  has  the  same  effect.  Such 
is  the  case  with  Fletcher's  pupils  who  keep  before  their  minds 
the  idea  that  they  are  chewing  and  rechewing  their  food.  A 
slogan  or  rallying  cry  may  call  forth  the  reserve  powers  of  a 
nation  in  a  crisis: — "Fatherland,"  the  "Flag,"  the  "Union," 
"Holy  Church,"  the  "Monroe  Doctrine,"  "Truth,"  "Science," 
"Liberty,"  Garibaldi's  "Rome  or  Death,"  and  (at  the  time) 
Wilson's  "Make  the  world  safe  for  democracy."  These  are 
all  keys  capable  of  tapping  such  powers  in  hosts  of  men,  and 
of  leading  them  to  achievements  of  which  they  had  not  known 
themselves  capable. 

One  means  of  approach  to  such  reserve  powers  is  found 
through,  the  agency  of  the  Alter,  present  in  dialogue  prayer. 
This  is  the  reason,  probably,  why  as  a  matter  of  fact,  if 


266  PRAYER 

sufficiently  hard  pressed,  we  all  do  pray,  however  great  our 
religious  skepticism  may  be  at  other  times.  Here  is  a  source 
of  energy  that  gives  reinforcement  in  emergencies,  to  which 
appeal  is  always  open.  The  emergency  may  be  a  physical  crisis, 
like  the  picturesque  case  of  Robert  Lyde,  an  imprisoned  sailor, 
who,  by  the  aid  of  prayer,  with  an  English  boy  overcame  a 
crew  of  seven  Frenchmen  and  brought  home  the  ship  to 
England,  11 ;  or  it  may  be  of  a  more  spiritual  character.  What- 
ever it  is,  through  prayer  we  often  do  obtain  saving  experiences. 
The  organism  is  enabled  to  react  to  an  emergency  for  which 
the  powers  of  which  it  is  conscious  are  unavailing. 

Two  difficulties  need  to  be  answered  in  connection  with  this 
view  of  the  relation  of  the  subconscious  to  prayer.  (1)  Is 
prayer  to  be  regarded  as  merely  another  means  of  tapping 
subconscious  energy,  to  be  classified  with  the  employment  of 
flags  and  bands  of  music  and  slogans,  and  even  with  Fletcher- 
izing  one's  food,  with  Yoga  practise,  and  with  the  use  of  brandy 
and  opium?  The  reply  is,  the  author  believes,  that  only  to 
a  certain  extent  are  the  psychological  principles  similar,  while 
there  is  a  profound  ethical  and  moral  difference  between  prayer 
and  the  other  cases.  In  every  spiritual  religion  appeal  is  always 
to  a  higher  and  more  ideal  Self.  When  the  Buddhist  takes  his 
refuge  in  the  Buddha  and  engages  in  meditation,  the  Alter  is 
the  embodiment  of  his  highest  ideals ;  the  God  of  Jew  and 
Christian  is  holy,  just,  wise,  and  merciful,  and  the  chief  end 
of  man  is  to  glorify  Him  and  enjoy  Him  forever.  So  the 
prayers  of  spiritual  religions  effect  moral  reinforcement  of 
character  through  the  action  of  the  Alter,  such  as  would  be 
impossible  to  the  same  extent  through  any  other  agency.  It 
follows  that  in  some  important  respects  prayer  involves  unique 
psychological  principles.  In  effecting  such  a  synthesis  of  moral 
sentiments,  prayer  psychologically  has  a  different  function 
from  other  means  of  tapping  subconscious  energy.  The  influx 
of  energy  due  to  prayer  effects  a  more  extensive  and  permanent 
co-ordination  of  springs  to  action. 

(2)  The  second  difficulty  to  be  met  is  this.  On  this  theory, 
all  prayer  in  all  religions  taps  subconscious  energy.  And  in 
all  spiritual  religions  prayer  effects  a  reinforcement  of  moral 
character.  Does  it  matter,  then,  to  what  Alter  one  prays? 
Is  the  prayer  of  the  Moslem  to  Allah  of  equal  moral  value 
with  the  prayers  of  American  Jews  and  Christians?  Well,  it 
is  not  necessary  to  say  that  all  Alteri  are  equally  developed 


DISCRIMINATIONS  267 

morally,  or  that  all  are  equally  adequate  likenesses  of  the  God 
of  the  Universe  (if  the  philosophical  inquiry  in  Part  III  leads 
us  to  accept  the  hypothesis  of  God).  We  shall  have  to  admit 
a  measure  of  truth  and  moral  worth  in  all  religions,  and  that 
prayer  is  answered  in  them  all.  But  as  humanity  has  advanced, 
we  have  found  that  its  conception  of  God  has  advanced  also. 
All  religions  contain  some  measure  of  goodness  and  truth ;  but 
those  religions  that  make  effective  the  ethically  best  and 
logically  most  rationally  conceived  Alter  are  best  and  truest. 

V — Prayer  Tends  to  Become  Discriminating 

As  people  become  more  thoughtful  they  cease  to  pay  unhesi- 
tatingly for  anything  whatever  that  they  desire.  They  begin 
to  discriminate,  and  to  restrict  the  variety  of  their  petitions. 
Experience  teaches  them  that  prayers  for  material  changes 
in  the  external  world  are  unavailing.  Rain  and  dry  weather 
come  just  the  same,  whether  one  prays  for  them  or  not.  Reflec- 
tion leads  people  also  to  cease  praying  for  some  things  that 
might  be  gained  through  prayer,  but  which  one  feels  it  is  not 
right  to  pray  for.  As  the  God  of  religion  becomes  conceived 
of  as  absolutely  good  and  holy,  one  hesitates  to  ask  Him  for 
something  petty  and  trivial.  Miss  Strong  says  that  some 
college  girls  have  admitted  to  her  that  they  have  prayed  for 
success  in  basketball  games  or  in  examinations,  but  have  made 
the  admission  somewhat  shamefacedly.  Such  prayers  undoubt- 
edly would  be  likely  to  be  efficacious.  Sub-conscious  energy 
would  be  released,  and  the  person's  efficiency  would  be  increased. 
But  to  some  persons  of  refinement  and  high  ideals  it  almost 
seems  like  a  profanation  of  the  sanctuary  of  the  heart  to  use 
its  beautiful  and  intimate  relation  to  God  for  any  but  the 
highest  purposes.  However,  only  people  of  education  and 
spiritual  refinement  feel  such  scruples.  Professor  Coe  evidently 
thinks  it  well  for  the  child  and  the  uneducated  farmer  to  pray 
for  rain.  "A  little  child,  seeing  a  storm  cloud  rising,  stops 
his  play,  kneels  on  the  lawn,  and  begs  God  not  to  let  it  rain. 
This  is  real  prayer;  .  .  .  because  he  assumes  toward  God 
a  personal  relation  that  is  appropriate  for  a  little  child.  .  .  . 
Just  so,  the  simple  believer  who  asks  that  he  may  have  rain 
for  his  wheat-field,  truly  prays.  His  praying  will  not  alter 
the  order  of  nature,  in  which  rain  has  its  place,  but  through 
his  prayer  he  assumes  a  relation  of  conscious  dependence  and 
trust  toward  God,  and  rightly  assumes  that  God  is  interested 


268  PRAYER 

in  wheat.  By  bringing  his  daily  occupation  to  God,  the  farmer 
attains  to  something  greater  than  wheat,  however — to  a  spirit- 
ual relationship  that  is  of  ultimate  worth,"  12.  Saint  Teresa 
is  quoted  by  Miss  Strong  to  similar  effect: — "I  laugh  and 
grieve  at  the  things  people  come  to  ask  our  prayers  for.  They 
should  rather  beg  of  God  that  he  would  enable  them  to  trample 
such  foolery  under  their  feet."  Still,  to  encourage  them  to 
come  at  all,  the  convent  accepts  such  prayers  and  offers  them, 
though,  she  says,  "I  am  persuaded  our  Lord  never  heard  me 
in  these  matters — for  persons  even  request  us  to  ask  His 
Majesty  for  money  and  revenues."  Similar  reasoning,  no  doubt, 
has  led  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  Southern  Europe  to 
preserve  unauthenticated  relics  of  saints,  and  to  permit  peasants 
to  believe  the  country  lore  regarding  miracles  performed  at 
shrines,  although  the  Church  never  certifies  any  relic  as 
genuine,  nor  that  prayers  at  any  shrine  actually  are  efficacious 
in  performing  miracles. 

How  far  the  religious  credulity  of  children  and  uneducated 
people  should  be  allowed  to  remain  undisturbed  is  of  course  a 
serious  question.  One  does  not  like  to  take  the  responsibility 
of  disturbing  their  faith,  and  risk  removing  the  source  of 
strength  and  comfort  and  stimulation  to  higher  things  that 
their  religion  affords  them.  At  the  same  time  there  always  is 
the  danger  that  such  people,  disappointed  in  finding  impossible 
prayers  unanswered  will  presently  lose  their  faith  entirely.  An 
American  child  who  had  been  encouraged  to  pray  for  rain  in 
a  time  of  drought  was  once  discovered  wrathfully  shaking  his 
fist  at  the  sky.  When  asked  the  reason  he  replied,  "I  am  angry 
at  God  because  He  won't  give  us  what  we  ask  for."  The 
bitterest  enemies  of  religion  during  the  past  two  generations 
have  often  been  people  who  were  brought  up  in  surroundings 
of  primitive  credulity,  and  taught  that  to  doubt  anything  is 
a  grievous  sin.  Such  persons  if  they  become  emancipated  from 
nai've  beliefs  are  very  likely  to  think  that  all  religion  is  down- 
right superstition. 

Teachers  of  religion  are  learning  to  recognize  that  when 
people  begin  to  think,  and  to  discover  that  prayers  of  some 
sorts  do  not  avail,  the  only  sure  way  to  induce  them  to  continue 
to  pray  at  all  is  to  show  them  how  to  discriminate  intelligently 
between  the  purposes  for  which  prayer  is  efficacious,  and  those 
for  which  it  is  not.  Moreover,  to  incite  them  to  appreciate  the 
higher  and  better  things  and  to  pray  for  them,  it  is  necessary 


EFFICACY  269 

to  lead  people  to  discriminate  between  the  things  for  which  it 
seems  morally  right  to  pray,  and  those  too  trivial  for  prayer. 
In  the  main,  the  author  believes  that  it  will  be  found  that  the 
purposes  for  which  prayer  is  unavailing  and  those  which  moral 
reflection  will  show  are  undeserving  of  prayer  coincide.  From 
a  moral  standpoint  we  really  could  not  desire  that  prayer  were 
efficacious  in  any  respect  in  which  it  is  not  efficacious. 

VI— The  Efficacy  of  Prayer 

We  shall  consider  in  order  the  efficacy  of  prayer  in  its  effects 

(1)  upon  the  mind  and  character  of  the  person  who  prays; 

(2)  upon  his  body;  (3)   upon  the  minds  and  bodies  of  other 
persons    for   whom   he    prays;    and    (4)    upon    the    physical 
environment. 

1.  The  possible  effects  of  prayer  upon  the  mind  and  char- 
acter of  the  person  who  prays  are  very  great.  The  only 
apparent  conditions  are  faith  in  the  process  of  prayer  itself, 
and  persistence.  Peace  of  mind,  calmness,  cheerfulness,  wisdom, 
courage,  selfmastery,  fairmindedness  in  dealing  with  others, 
and  all  other  moral  virtues  are  open  to  him  who  prays.  One 
may  learn  to  exercise  charity  to  all  and  malice  toward  none. 
One  may  progress  in  the  pursuit  of  every  ambition  that  is 
sanctioned  by  one's  conscience.  One  may  develop  into  the  sort 
of  man  morally  that  it  is  one's  ideal  to  become.  There  is  no 
virtue  to  which  man  aspires,  no  vice  which  he  would  overcome, 
for  which  prayer  will  not  avail.  To  be  sure,  a  man  born  with 
an  unusually  strong  pugnacious  instinct  may  not  necessarily 
become  a  model  of  gentleness  through  prayer,  and  a  man  with 
an  unusually  imperious  sexual  instinct  may  not  necessarily  find 
continence  easy;  though  even  such  achievements  through 
prayer  have  not  infrequently  occurred.  But  the  pugnacity  of 
the  former  man  may  be  taught  invariably  to  blend  with  his 
tender  emotion  to  form  the  complex  emotion  of  moral  indigna- 
tion, and  the  virtue  of  courage  may  consequently  become  so  pre- 
eminent in  such  a  man  that  he  will  be  a  leader  in  every  splendid 
fight  for  good  ends  and  noble  purposes.  In  the  case  of  the  man 
with  apparently  too  strong  erotic  desires,  sex  impulses  may 
become  sublimated  into  artistic  activity,  and  render  him  gifted 
in  art,  literature,  or  music;  or  it  may  endow  him  with  unusual 
athletic  prowess  or  intellectual  acuteness.  Any  powerful 
instinct,  which,  untamed,  is  liable  to  lead  a  man  to  his  ruin,  may 


270  PRAYER 

through  earnest  prayer,  and  consecration  to  the  Alter,  become 
so  trained  as  to  become  one  of  his  most  valuable  assets. 

2.  The  possible  effects  of  prayer  upon  the  bodily  health 
of  the  person  who  prays  are  also  great.  Just  how  far  they 
extend,  and  where  their  limits  will  be  found  are  questions  of 
therapeutics  to  be  determined  in  each  particular  case  by  the 
combined  experience  of  physicians  and  clergymen,  13.  Roughly 
speaking,  it  is  safe  to  claim  that  very  many  functional  diseases 
can  be  cured  by  means  of  prayer.  Functional  diseases  may  be 
defined  as  those  in  which  no  organic  tissue  has  been  destroyed, 
so  that  organs  remain  intact,  but  in  which  their  activity  is 
excessive,  defective,  or  in  some  way  irregular.  Ordinary  head- 
aches, constipation,  indigestion,  and  nervousness  would  be 
examples.  Even  in  these  cases,  however,  simple  prayer  alone 
would  not  always  suffice.  Intense  prayer  long  continued  with 
the  assistance  of  the  suggestions  induced  by  a  mental  healer 
would  be  likely  to  be  necessary.  Whether  such  heroic  treatment, 
possibly  involving  some  risk  of  permanent  mental  injury,  would 
be  advisable  would  depend  upon  the  circumstances.  It  would 
be  foolish  to  treat  a  temporary  case  of  constipation  by  such 
means  when  some  simple  drug  would  be  safer  and  equally  or 
more  effective.  While  Jesus  and  his  apostles  cured  sick  folk 
through  religious  means  exclusively  (i.  e.,  faith  and  prayer) 
it  must  be  remembered  that  the  ordinary  divine  healer  of  our 
times  lacks  their  good  judgment,  and  that  the  scientific  under- 
standing of  the  use  of  drugs  has  now  made  simpler  and  less 
dangerous  modes  of  treatment  available  for  many  disorders. 

While  the  usefulness  of  the  prayers  of  the  divine  healer,  even 
in  the  treatment  of  functional  disorders,  is  therefore  restricted 
and  should  never  be  resorted  to  without  previous  diagnosis  by 
a  competent  physician,  there  is  of  course  no  reason  why  a 
patient  suffering  from  a  functional  disorder  should  not 
earnestly  pray,  together  with  the  members  of  his  family,  for 
his  recovery.  Such  prayers  will  assist  all  the  more  in  effecting 
a  recovery  if  good  nursing  and  competent  medical  attendance 
are  also  employed. 

Organic  diseases  are  those  in  which  organic  tissue  has  been 
wholly  or  partly  injured  or  destroyed,  such  as  tuberculosis, 
cancer,  paresis,  and  the  like.  Acute  diseases  include  infections, 
such  as  typhoid  fever  and  pneumonia.  In  cases  of  these  kinds, 
prayer  alone  can  no  more  be  expected  to  effect  a  cure  than  it  can 


EFFICACY  271 

to  set  a  broken  bone,  make  a  crooked  back  straight,  or  restore 
an  arm  or  leg  that  has  been  shot  away  in  battle. 

Alleged  cases  where  persons  are  reported  to  have  been  cured 
of  paralysis,  tuberculosis,  and  like  diseases  by  divine  healing 
have  never  been  authenticated.  -Usually  diagnosis  may  be 
presumed  to  have  been  at  fault.  Hysterical  cases  of  paralysis 
where  the  patient  imagines  himself  unable  to  move,  and  so 
actually  cannot  move  by  his  own  volition,  but  where  no  injury 
to  the  brain  has  actually  occurred,  can  be  cured,  just  as  they 
have  been  caused,  by  suggestion.  However,  it  is  well  known 
that  the  progress  of  an  incurable  disease  may  be  somewhat 
checked  if  the  patient  remains  in  a  cheerful  frame  of  mind,  and 
that  his  courage  and  confidence  increase  his  chance  of  recovery 
from  an  infectious  fever  or  a  surgical  operation.  So  that 
while  the  power  of  prayer  in  such  cases  is  restricted,  it  may 
be  of  assistance  in  connection  with  other  agencies. 

In  cases  of  incurable  disease,  prayer  can  do  something  for 
the  patient  that  is  really  of  more  moral  significance  than 
recovery.  Everyone  has  known  invalids  whose  minds,  sustained 
by  religion,  have  become  strong  forces  for  good  in  every  way 
among  those  about  them.  What  person  condemned  to  death 
from  sickness  would  not  prefer  to  meet  his  end  like  a  man,  and 
to  leave  tender  memories  of  his  last  days  to  those  who  mourn 
him!  Through  prayer,  an  incurable  invalid  may  overcome 
irritability  and  despondency ;  and,  instead  of  being  an  affliction, 
he  may  become  a  benediction  to  those  to  whom  he  is  dear,  and 
the  close  of  his  life  may  be  a  stronger  influence  for  good  than 
had  been  his  years  of  health  and  strength.  The  sufferer  who 
does  not  understand  the  psychological  nature  and  limitations 
of  prayer,  or  who  has  not  been  told  the  nature  of  his  disease 
and  is  unaware  that  it  is  incurable  will  naturally  pray  for 
his  recovery.  His  prayer  will  not  be  literally  answered;  but 
if  it  enables  him  to  draw  upon  the  reserve  powers  of  his 
subconsciousness  it  may  give  him  calmness  and  courage  and 
make  a  moral  hero  of  him.  The  better  informed  invalid,  who 
knows  the  incurable  nature  of  his  sickness  and  who  also  knows 
both  the  power  and  the  limitations  of  prayer  will  pray,  not 
for  recovery,  but  that  he  may  have  calmness,  courage,  and 
cheerful  resignation.  Such  an  one  will  be  certain  not  to  lose 
confidence  in  prayer,  since  he  understands  precisely  what  he 
may  expect  from  it,  and  will  not  be  embittered  by  disappoint- 


272  PRAYER 

ment,  but  will  learn  how  to  rise  above  his  suffering  and  quit 
himself  bravely  and  manfully. 

3.  The  possible  effects  of  prayer  upon  the  minds  and  bodies 
of  other  persons  will  be  similar  to  those  described,  provided  one 
of  two  conditions  is  met;  EITHER  that  the  person  who  is 
prayed  for  knows  that  he  is  prayed  for,  OR  that  the  person  who 
prays  comes  into  social  contact  with  the  person  for  whom  he 
'prays.  If  a  wandering  son  knows  that  his  mother  is  praying 
for  him,  this  thought  will  touch  his  sympathies,  and  may  bring 
to  the  surface  of  conscious  attention  memories  that  have  been 
dormant,  and  release  long  suppressed  or  forgotten  impulses  and 
aspirations  that  will  again  make  a  man  of  him.  Perhaps  it 
ought  to  be  added,  that  the  extent  of  the  influence  of  this 
form  of  prayer  depends  considerably  upon  the  esteem  which  the 
person  who  is  prayed  for  holds  for  those  who  are  praying  for 
him.  An  honest  sinner  will  feel  little  but  contempt  for  what 
he  believes  to  be  the  Pharisaical  attitude  of  those  in  the  village 
prayer  meeting  who  pray  publicly  for  him,  and  such  prayers 
may  do  more  harm  than  good.  The  value  of  such  intercessory 
prayer  depends  upon  the  character  of  the  person  who  prays, 
and  officious  busybodies  who  have  and  deserve  to  have,  no  moral 
influence  in  other  ways  upon  another  person,  will  not  gain 
such  influence  over  him  through  prayer. 

If  the  person  who  prays  comes  into  social  contact  with  those 
others  for  whom  he  prays,  his  prayers  may  avail  without  the 
others  knowing  that  he  is  praying  for  them.  In  such  cases 
the  person  who  prays  will  receive  through  prayer  personal 
strength,  wisdom,  and  self  control  in  dealing  with  others ;  and 
their  attitude  will  change  in  response  to  his  altered  attitude 
toward  them.  A  good  woman,  when  she  heard  any  member 
of  her  family  find  fault  with  some  one  whom  he  disliked,  was 
in  the  habit  of  asking  the  critic,  "Do  you  pray  for  him?"  It 
was  a  just  rebuke.  It  is  impossible  to  pray  honestly  for  any 
one  and  not  learn  to  appreciate  the  good  in  him,  and  to  adopt 
a  more  human  attitude  toward  him.  And  this  cannot  fail  to 
have  some  influence  upon  the  person  in  question. 

The  discussion  thus  far  has  chiefly  been  regarding  the 
efficacy  of  individual  prayer.  The  principles  stated  hold  in  a 
similar  manner  in  each  case  for  community  prayer.  //  a  group 
of  persons  were  sincerely  to  pray  for  mental  and  moral  changes 
in  themselves  these  would  follow  almost  without  limit.  A 
congregation  who  prayed  that  they  might  be  filled  with  charity 


EFFICACY  273 

and  brotherly  love  for  one  another  would  gain  that  for  which 
they  prayed.  Two  quarreling  church  factions  that  could  be 
induced  to  come  together  in  such  a  service  and  pray,  not  at 
each  other,  but  to  God  that  they  might  learn  to  love  and  respect 
each  other,  would  speedily  learn  to  dwell  together  like  brethren 
in  unity.  Prayers  that  the  church  might  be  consecrated  to 
greater  service  in  the  locality,  to  purer  living,  and  to  sincerer 
devotion  to  all  that  is  true,  good,  and  beautiful  would  likewise 
be  certain  of  fulfilment.  If  the  congregation  were  to  pray  for 
better  social  and  moral  conditions  in  the  city  in  which  they 
live,  such  prayers  would  be  liable  to  be  effective  in  some  measure 
if  the  people  in  the  city  generally  knew  that  the  church  people 
were  praying  thus,  and  much  more,  if  the  church  people, 
strengthened  and  inspired  by  their  prayers,  were  to  increase 
and  make  more  effective  their  points  of  social  contact  in  the 
city. 

What  is  true  of  a  city  is  true,  of  course,  still  more  of  the 
nation  as  a  whole.  Some  one  has  said  that  the  modern  man 
does  not  know  how  to  repent  for  the  sins  of  his  city  or  nation. 
Suppose  that  in  all  the  churches  and  synagogues  of  a  city  or 
of  a  nation  one  day  every  week  the  communicants  were  to  come 
together  and  pray  after  this  manner: — "O  God,  we  confess  to 
Thee  our  remorse  and  shame  at  the  sins  of  society  for  which  we 
as  citizens  are  in  large  measure  to  blame.  We  have  permitted 
little  children  in  this  city  (or  nation)  to  be  deprived  of  school- 
ing and  put  to  long  hours  of  excessive  labor  that  we  might 
buy  cheaper  clothing.  We  have  permitted  young  girls  to  be 
led  into  the  horrors  of  white  slavery  partly  because  we  were  too 
indifferent  to  provide  decent  places  of  amusement  so  that  their 
only  chance  of  recreation  was  in  questionable  surroundings ; 
partly  because  we  were  too  greedy  to  obtain  profits  from 
business,  or  to  buy  cheap  merchandise,  to  insist  that  working 
girls  be  paid  living  wages,  and  partly  because  we  were  too 
indifferent  to  provide  places  in  our  homes  where  our  domestic 
servants  could  suitably  entertain  their  friends.  We  have  been 
bigoted  in  our  hostility  to  every  attempt  of  workingmen  to 
better  their  conditions  and  have  uncharitably  criticized  the 
mistakes  of  their  unions  instead  of  trying  to  sympathize  with 
them  and  to  help  them.  We  have  been  fanatical  in  our  hatred 
of  successful  business  men  and  heads  of  corporations  and  have 
failed  to  appreciate  their  services  to  society,  or  to  understand 
the  difficulties  under  which  they  work.  We  have  each  of  us 


274  PRAYER 

been  concerned  with  his  own  personal  and  family  interests  am 
refused  to  take  an  interest  in  elections,  or  to  be  candidates  fo 
office  ourselves,  and  we  have  unthinkingly  and  cruelly  abusec 
those  who  were  willing  to  do  so.  Lord,  we  have  all  erred  am 
strayed  from  Thy  ways  in  neglect  of  our  obligations  to  thi 
city  (or  nation) — have  mercy  upon  us,  miserable  sinners!"  I 
we  could  imagine  such  a  confession  as  this  being  honestl; 
repeated  weekly  in  every  place  of  worship  in  any  city  or  in  th 
land  as  a  whole,  can  we  imagine  that  it  would  be  long  befor 
the  reserve  energies  of  the  city  or  nation  would  be  brough 
into  action,  and  that  these  shameful  iniquities  would  be  removec 
from  us !  In  like  manner,  if  in  all  the  places  of  worship  ii 
the  countries  involved  in  the  late  war,  Christian,  Jewish  am 
Moslem  alike,  the  worshippers  were  to  pray  sincerely  in  confes 
sion  of  their  own  shortcomings  and  in  desire  to  understand  th 
point  of  view  of  their  enemies,  would  it  be  long  before  inter 
national  justice  and  the  civic  and  political  rights  of  al 
individuals  of  every  race  and  nation  could  in  some  way  b 
assured  by  universal  agreement,  and  future  wars  be  renderec 
impossible? 

4.  Can  prayer  have  any  effect  upon  the  physical  environ 
•ment  whatever?  Perhaps  many  readers  who  have  agreed  witl 
the  general  course  of  the  argument  thus  far  would  emphatically 
say,  No.  But,  in  a  sense  we  shall  see  that  even  the  physica 
environment  may  be  modified  through  prayer.  The  reportec 
saying  of  Jesus  that  through  faith  his  followers  might  removi 
mountains  has  seemed  to  many  to  be  legendary,  or  figurative 
or  Oriental  hyperbole.  But  in  our  time  have  not  mountain! 
actually  been  removed  through  faith?  Railways  have  beei 
built  over  the  great  back  bone  of  the  continent,  so  that  oui 
Atlantic  Coast  has  become  only  four  days'  travel  from  tin 
Pacific  Ocean.  The  mountains  at  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  hav( 
been  removed  and  cast  into  the  sea,  so  that  ships  may  pas; 
from  one  ocean  to  the  other.  And  when  one  reads  of  the  diffi- 
culties which  had  to  be  overcome  by  those  who  have  achievec 
these  great  tasks,  one  marvels  at  their  faith.  Wherever  mat 
learns  the  way  to  overcome  the  difficulties  in  his  physical 
environment,  prayer,  by  releasing  reserve  powers  of  subcon 
scious  energy,  will  strengthen  his  faith  and  courage,  and  wil 
render  him  able  to  carry  out  his  task.  Prayer  therefore  maij 
be  of  incalculable  aid  to  mankind  in  the  great  task  of  rendering 
physical  nature  suited  to  the  needs  of  an  advancing  civilization 


EFFICACY  275 

This  leads  us  to  our  practical  conclusion  in  regard  to  the 
efficacy  of  prayer.  Prayer  is  efficacious,  never  as  a  substitute 
for  action,  but  as  a  guide  and  stimulus  to  action.  This  is  true 
of  prayer,  just  as  it  is  true  of  all  forms  of  consciousness.  Our 
minds,  whatever  theory  we  may  hold  of  their  relation  to  our 
bodies  and  to  the  external  world,  do  not  of  themselves  ever 
change  the  course  of  events.  Mere  thinking  cannot  ever  raise 
our  feet  from  the  ground,  much  less  displace  a  particle  of 
matter  external  to  our  bodies.  One  might  sit  in  his  room  all 
day  and  think  hard  of  his  breakfast,  but  that  would  not  bring 
it  to  him.  But  his  thoughts  can  very  well  guide  his  feet  in  the 
direction  of  the  dining  room.  Likewise  mere  prayer  without 
action  on  the  part  of  the  person  who  prays  will  accomplish 
nothing.  The  hordes  of  monks  in  Constantinople  in  1453  who 
stayed  in  their  cloisters  praying  that  the  Blessed  Virgin  would 
deliver  the  city  from  the  Turks  did  not  understand  the 
psychology  of  prayer,  and  it  was  not  long  before  Mohammed  II 
entered  the  city  and  the  Byzantine  Empire  was  at  an  end. 
Had  they  understood  the  simple  principle  just  laid  down,  and 
with  the  "Holy  Virgin"  as  their  rallying  cry,  taken  their  part 
assisting  in  the  defense  of  the  city,  it  is  possible  that  they 
might  have  been  successful.  American  women  used  to  gather 
together  by  themselves  on  election  days  and  pray  all  day  that 
God  would  cause  their  communities  to  vote  for  prohibition,  and 
at  that  time  their  prayers  were  rarely  effective.  Of  recent 
years  such  women  have  learned  to  do  their  praying  in  advance, 
and  to  devote  themselves  during  elections,  as  well  as  before, 
to  energetic  canvassing;  and  such  a  tremendous  movement  has 
ensued  that  a  prohibition  amendment  has  been  added  to  the 
federal  constitution. 

There  was  a  mother  whose  little  boys  acted  rudely  and 
annoyingly  when  a  visitor  was  calling.  The  mother  in  apology 
exclaimed,  "You  have  no  idea  how  much  I  have  prayed  for  those 
boys !"  The  visitor  replied,  "If  you  used  a  stick  to  them 
occasionally,  your  prayers  might  do  some  good !"  The  saying, 
"God  helps  them  that  help  themselves"  is  correct  psychology. 
It  would  be  still  more  accurate  to  add  "God  helps  them  through 
their  helping  themselves."  A  man  may  hope,  through  appeals 
to  the  Alter  of  his  prayers,  that  his  efforts  may  be  so  guided 
and  stimulated  that  they  will  accomplish  the  desired  end.  But 
he  cannot  expect  that  God  will  plough  his  fields  for  him,  or 
take  care  of  his  hay  when  rain  threatens,  or  act  as  his  trained 


276  PRAYER 

accountant  or  efficiency  expert,  and  straighten  out  his  business 
perplexities.  The  only  way  that  a  person's  prayers  can  be 
answered  at  all  is  through  processes  that  begin  in  his  own 
psycho-physical  orgau^m,  and  through  it  affect  the  external 
world. 

The  view  of  prayer  that  has  thus  far  been  outlined  in  this 
chapter  is  claimed  to  be  scientifically  tenable.  It  contradicts  no 
known  law  of  nature.  It  is  merely  a  popular  statement  and 
application  of  generally  accepted  psychological  principles. 
This  view  of  prayer  is  also  morally  and  religiously  more  helpful 
and  uplifting  than  less  scientific  views.  No  view  of  prayer 
that  contradicts  well  known  laws  of  science,  such  as  are  no'.v 
generally  taught  in  our  secondary  schools  can  longer  command 
the  confidence  of  thoughtful  people.  And  many,  perhaps  tho 
majority  of  young  people,  when  they  discover  that  the  views 
of  prayer  taught  them  by  their  pastors  and  Sunday  School 
teachers  are  scientifically  unsound,  are  not  likely  to  realize  the 
possibility  of  a  corrected  scientific  conception  of  prayer.  They 
are  more  liable  to  lose  confidence  in  it  altogether.  Religious 
workers  cannot  induce  people  who  are  thoughtful  to  resort  to 
prayer  when  it  is  scientifically  justifiable  to  do  so,  unless  they 
are  honest  in  pointing  out  the  limitations  of  prayer.  If  they 
vaguely  dilate  on  "the  power  of  prayer"  and  say  that  "every- 
thing" can  be  accomplished  by  its  agency,  if  one  only  has  faith 
enough,  their  more  thoughtful  hearers,  seeing  the  falsity  of 
such  claims  are  liable  to  conclude  that  all  prayer,  like  some 
prayer,  is  mere  delusion  and  superstition. 

Furthermore,  from  a  moral  standpoint  no  one  who  thinks 
the  matter  over  carefully  could  really  desire  that  prayer  should 
be  effective  in  any  way  for  which  it  is  not  effective.  How 
morally  absurd  it  would  be  if  every  one  could  cause  rain  to 
fall  or  a  drought  to  come  because  he  prayed,  or  in  any  other 
way  could  suspend  the  laws  of  nature  for  his  own  private 
benefit!  What  a  disorderly  and  chaotic  world  we  should  be 
living  in,  were  that  possible!  Far  preferable  is  a  world  of 
orderly  and  uniform  natural  laws  such  as  that  in  which  we 
do  live.  And  how  petty  and  selfish  it  really  would  be  for  a 
person  to  ask  that  the  laws  of  the  universe  should  be  set  aside 
for  his  sake.  Could  we  respect  a  God  who  would  show  such 
partiality  to  people  who  prayed  for  such  selfish  ends!  And 
it  would  be  immoral  as  well  as  ridiculous  to  expect  God  to  solve 
the  problems  of  business  or  home  for  us,  while  we  looked  on  at 


OBJECTIVITY  277 

Him  doing  our  duties.  We  should  be  parasites  in  such  a  case, 
shirking  our  own  responsibilities.  But  we  may  ask  God  to 
give  us  wisdom  and  courage  to  solve  our  own  difficulties ;  we 
can  expect  that  He  will  enable  us  to  attain  our  moral  ends 
through  energy  made  available  for  us  through  the  Alter  of  our 
prayers. 

This  theory  of  prayer  makes  it  possible  to  gain  all  the 
moral  and  spiritual  goods  that  are  of  supreme  value  in  the 
vorld.  The  getting  of  much  food  and  fine  raiment  and  great 
possessions  and  all  the  grosser  and  more  material  things  of 
life  occupy  entirely  too  much  of  our  attention  as  it  is ;  far 
better  is  it  that  to  the  Alter  of  prayer  we  should  look  not  so 
much  for  these,  as  for  purity  of  heart  and  soul,  integrity,  and 
single  minded  devotion  to  all  that  is  good,  true  and  beautiful. 
For  these  spiritual  goods,  the  supreme  values  of  life,  are  avail- 
able to  every  one  who  prays  earnestly  for  them  and  honestly 
endeavors  to  realize  them  in  his  life,  14. 

VII — The  Objectivity  of  Prayer 

The  problem  that  next  demands  our  consideration  is  the 
question  of  the  objectivity  of  prayer,  (a)  Granting  all  that 
has  been  claimed  for  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  may  not  prayer 
be  a  purely  subjective  affair?  May  not  the  Alter  really  be  a 
creation  of  the  imagination,  and  does  not  the  efficacy  of  prayer 
depend  upon  the  unproved  assumption  that  the  Alter  actually 
exists,  not  merely  in  the  mind  of  the  person  who  prays,  but 
also  as  God  in  the  external  world?  Can  prayer  in  any  sense 
be  objective?  (b)  Once  convince  any  intelligent  person  of 
the  psychological  nature  of  prayer,  must  he  not  refuse  to 
stultify  himself  by  pretending  to  believe  what  he  does  not  know 
to  be  really  true,  and  hence  must  he  not  give  up  praying 
entirely? 

Answering  (b)  first,  the  argument  of  this  section  will 
endeavor  to  show  that  it  is  quite  reasonable  to  pray  before 
one  has  been  able  to  make  up  his  mind  upon  the  problem  of  the 
objectivity  of  prayer.  In  reply  to  (a),  which  will  then  be 
considered,  two  different  theories,  both  of  which  maintain  the 
objectivity  of  prayer,  will  be  presented  for  the  reader's 
consideration. 

1.  It  must  be  admitted  that,  in  the  author's  opinion  at 
least,  the  question  of  the  objective  existence  of  God  cannot 
be  settled  upon  purely  psychological  grounds.  The  psycho- 


278  PRAYER 

logical  facts  which  we  know  are  inadequate  to  answer  the 
question.  (The  grounds  for  the  belief  in  God  are  metaphysical, 
and  will  be  given  in  Part  III.)  However,  it  does  not  follow 
that  intelligent  people  who  understand  something  of  the 
psychology  of  prayer  must  refuse  to  pray  until  philosophers 
are  all  agreed  upon  the  nature  and  existence  of  God.  In 
primitive  times,  the  author  believes  that  people  prayed  before 
the  idea  of  a  divine  being  of  any  sort  had  occurred  to  them. 
People  would  continue  to  pray  if  that  belief  were  to  pass  away. 
The  efficacy  of  prayer  is  a  great  fact  of  human  experience. 
The  hypothesis  of  God  is  only  one  way — though  the  author 
believes  it  to  be  philosophically  the  best  way — to  explain  that 
fact. 

If  we  recall  what  was  said  regarding  the  evolution  of  prayer 
in  Chapter  VI.,  it  will  be  remembered  that  among  primitive 
peoples  sacrifice  and  prayer  probably  antedate  beliefs  in  spirits, 
gods  and  other  personal  beings  of  all  sorts.  People  first 
repeated  spells  and  prayed ;  their  prayers  sometimes  were 
efficacious ;  one  reason  for  belief  in  spirits  was  that  this 
hypothesis  explained  the  facts  of  their  religious  experience. 
Some  Buddhists  engage  in  meditation  without  believing  in  a 
God;  such  meditation  is  effective  in  influencing  their  lives. 
Comte  advised  his  followers  to  pray  to  mental  pictures  of 
absent  wives  and  mothers;  the  Alter  would  in  such  a  practice 
be  frankly  recognized  to  be  imaginary.  Wordsworth  got  moral 
and  religious  strength  and  reinforcement  in  recalling  to  his 
mind  natural  scenery  which  he  had  enjoyed  in  the  past;  this, 
psychologically  speaking,  was  an  experience  similar  in  principle 
to  prayer — yet  the  scenery  that  served  as  an  alter  he  could 
not  have  thought  of  as  objectively  present. 

But,  most  convincing  perhaps  is  the  actual  testimony  of 
people  brought  up  with  Christian  traditions  who  have  con- 
tinued to  pray  to  God  after  having  ceased  to  be  certain  that 
there  is  a  God,  or  at  any  rate  that  he  is  present  to  their  minds 
in  prayer,  and  whose  prayers  have  yet  been  efficacious. 
Professor  Leuba  has  collected  a  number  of  instances  of  this 
tvrie  in  answer  to  a  questionnaire.  One  is  that  of  a  physician 
in  the  prime  of  life:  "I  pray  privately,  morning  and  evening, 
in  the  belief  that  the  practice  is  effective  to  live  the  day  in 
piety  and  I  am  sure  that  it  is.  ...  It  has  a  quieting, 
pacifying  influence  on  my  soul  and  makes  me  calm  and  happy 
and  strong  in  practical  life;  it  supplies  me  with  patience  and 


OBJECTIVITY  279 

perseverance.  ...  I  feel  also  the  greatness  and  power  of 
God  in  such  a  way  as  to  admire  and  praise  Him  with  gratitude 
and  j  oy.  .  .  .  How  does  He.  help  me  and  does  He  at  all 
keep  me?  I  do  not  know :  I  sometimes  believe  that  He  does.  It 
may  be  that  the  very  act  of  praying  is  the  way  in  which  I  am 
assisted  by  the  Divine  Power — when  I  am  speaking  to  God,  it 
is  God  who  speaks  in  me."  Another  is  a  doctor  of  philosophy 
about  forty  years  of  age,  head  of  an  institution  of  learning, 
who  prays  that  he  may  help  others  as  well  as  himself,  e.  g., 
"Help  me  to  get  a  grip  on  T. ;  the  fellow  has  got  it  in  him  to 
be  somebody;  I  don't  want  him  to  go  to  the  devil."  His 
thoughts  are  then  likely  to  run  off  on  the  problem  in  mind. 
This  man  believes  that  it  is  a  personal  Divinity  who  gives  him 
strength,  but  is  not  interested  in  Biblical  miracles  and  does  not 
want  to  put  prayer  on  that  basis,  but  on  some  sort  of  scientific 
basis. 

Another  woman,  a  communicant  in  a  Presbyterian  church : — 
"In  my  purely  emotional  experiences,  I  have  no  distinct  realiza- 
tion of  communion  with  God.  This  does  not,  however,  prove 
to  me  that  there  is  no  God,  but  rather  that  my  development  is 
not  sufficiently  advanced  to  realize  Him  as  I  wish.  Reflectively, 
I  use  'God'  as  that  in  reason  behind  which  I  cannot  go,  and  I 
act  as  if  I  really  believed  in  Him  as  a  personality  in  order  to 
satisfy  my  intellectual  and  aesthetic  needs,"  15.  A  very  striking 
instance  has  been  reported  by  Miss  Amy  Eliza  Tanner,  16,  and 
others  by  Dr.  Frank  Orman  Beck,  17. 

From  such  cases  it  appears  to  be  clear  that  it  is  quite  possible 
for  a  person  to  remain  uncertain  in  his  own  mind  whether  the 
reinforcement  that  he  receives  in  prayer  is  due  merely  to  an 
Alter  of  his  imagination  or  to  an  objective  God,  and  never- 
theless to  continue  the  practice  of  prayer,  and  to  receive  benefit 
from  it.  The  efficacy  of  prayer  is  not  dependent  on  the 
worshipper's  understanding  of  the  'philosophy  and  psychology 
of  the  process.  The  efficacy  of  prayer  is  a  matter  of  immediate 
experience;  the  existence  and  nature  of  God  are  difficult 
philosophical  questions  upon  which  it  is  unnecessary  for  the 
worshipper  to  make  up  his  mind  in  order  to  receive  the  benefits 
of  prayer. 

Nor  is  there  any  reasonable  ground  for  accusing  people 
of  intellectual  dishonesty  because  they  pray,  although  they 
cannot  explain  in  just  what  way  they  believe  prayer  to  be 
efficacious.  Suppose  a  building  were  on  fire,  and  one  could 


280  PRAYER 

easily  throw  water  upon  the  flames  and  extinguish  them. 
Would  it  be  wrong  for  him  to  do  so  because  he  did  not  under- 
stand the  chemistry  of  combustion?  When  people  eat  food 
they  ordinarily  suppose  that  the  food  is  digested  in  their 
stomachs.  Suppose  a  student  of  physiology  were  to  come  to 
doubt  this,  and  to  suspect  that  other  vital  organs  possibly 
play  more  important  parts  in  digestion  than  the  stomach. 
Would  it  be  intellectually  dishonest  for  him  to  continue  to  eat 
food  until  he  had  definitely  decided  the  question?  In  any  event, 
food  is  digested,  and  he  needs  it  to  support  life — the  theoretical 
question  can  be  solved  at  his  leisure  or  never  at  all.  So  if  a 
person  knows  he  can  receive  large  moral  benefits  through 
prayer,  and  feels  the  need  of  these,  he  should  not  refrain  from 
praying  until  he  can  understand  and  decide  the  psychological 
and  philosophical  nature  of  the  Alter  and  know  whether  it  is 
a  subjective  creation  of  his  own  consciousness  or  an  objectively 
existing  personality.  Prayer  in  either  case  is  efficacious,  and 
that  is  the  main  point;  the  theoretical  question  cannot  affect 
the  actual  value  and  efficacy  of  prayer. 

2.  We  are  now  ready  to  take  up  the  questions  raised  under 
(a)  above  (page  277).  These  questions  raise  an  issue  which 
psychology  is  unable  at  present  to  settle  absolutely.  It  is 
this:  Is  the  process  of  prayer  something  that  goes  on  wholly 
within  the  psycho-physical  organism?  Those  who  would 
answer  the  latter  question  affirmatively  must  not  forget  that 
in  efficacious  prayer  it  always  seems  to  the  worshipper  that 
energy  does  enter  into  him  from  the  external  world.  The 
worshipper  may  be  wrong,  but  such  is  certainly  his  impression. 
The  burden  of  proof  clearly  lies  with  those  who  maintain  that 
he  is  wrong. 

In  any  event  it  is  evident  that  the  reinforcement  of  the 
conscious  Ego  of  dialogue  prayer  is  effected  through  the 
agency  of  the  Alter,  and  it  also  is  evident  that  the  Alter  is 
the  key  by  which  sub-conscious  reserves  of  energy  are  tapped. 
But  it  is  not  necessary  to  conclude  that  this  energy  has  all 
been  produced  within  the  organism.  Some  of  it  may  enter 
the  organism  from  outside  when  the  individual  prays.  William 
James  suggests  such  an  hypothesis  rather  tentatively  in  his 
Varieties  of  Religious  Experience  and  in  his  lecture  on  Human 
Immortality;  there  may  be  somewhere  in  the  universe  a  great 
reservoir  of  sub-conscious  energy  that  is  tapped  and  made 
available  for  finite  beings  in  prayer  and  other  religious 


OBJECTIVITY  281 

experiences.  This  reservoir  presumably  would  either  be  God, 
or  under  the  control  of  God.  So  the  energy  really  would  be 
supplied  to  the  individual  by  God  in  answer  to  his  prayers. 
This  suggestion  is  accepted  by  Dr.  George  Barton  Cutten,  who 
thinks  that  in  prayer  and  conversion  and  other  religious 
experiences  "God  directly  acts  upon  the  subconsciousness,"  18. 

This  theory  is  psychologically  tenable  in  the  present  state 
of  knowledge  on  the  subject.  We  do  not  know  the  precise 
amount  of  physical  energy  stored  up  in  the  organism ;  nor  do 
we  know  how  much  "psychical  energy"  (whatever  that  may  be) 
constitutes  the  resources  of  the  subconscious.  This  theory 
will  in  the  remainder  of  this  book  be  referred  to  as  the  hypothesis 
of  an  external  God,  i.  e.,  a  God  external  to  the  mind  and  body 
of  the  individual  person,  who  acts  upon  the  person  through  his 
subconsciousness.  This  theory  appears  to  be  an  application 
of  "theism" ;  but  the  latter  term  is  to-day  used  in  so  many 
different  senses  that  it  has  become  highly  ambiguous.  The 
expression  "theory  of  an  external  God"  is  much  less  misleading, 
if  it  be  remembered  that  by  "external"  is  meant  external  to  the 
minds  and  bodies  of  men.  Such  a  God  is  conceived  of  as  pres- 
ent and  operative  in  the  universe  (as  opposed  to  Deism).  The 
chief  argument  in  favor  of  the  hypothesis  of  an  external  God 
as  an  explanation  of  prayer  is  that  it  agrees  with  the  worship- 
per's impression  that  energy  comes  to  him  from  without. 

The  theory,  however,  is  open  to  a  serious  scientific  objection. 
It  introduces  the  hypothesis  of  God  into  the  science  of  psychol- 
ogy, to  explain  psychological  facts.  Now  the  hypothesis  of 
God  is  no  longer  employed  in  any  of  the  more  mature  natural 
sciences,  though  it  once  had  its  place  in  them  all.  In  no 
authoritative  text  book  in  astronomy,  physics,  chemistry, 
geology  or  biology  does  any  one  to-day  expect  to  find  any 
phenomenon  explained  by  Divine  action — such  an  explanation 
would  be  regarded  as  utterly  unscientific.  In  psychology  itself 
no  one  would  dream  of  introducing  the  conception  of  God  to 
explain  any  ordinary  mental  processes ;  should  we  therefore 
continue  to  introduce  it  for  the  explanation  of  religious  phen- 
omena? To  be  sure,  in  our  present  ignorance  it  is  possible  that 
"God  acts  directly  on  the  sub-consciousness"  but  to  introduce 
such  an  hypothesis  into  the  psychology  of  religion  it  may  be 
urged,  is  both  unnecessary,  and  contrary  to  the  scientific  spirit. 
While  the  reader  may  decide  to  accept  this  hypothesis,  and 
while  there  are  philosophical  considerations  that  fr.ror  it,  as 


282  PRAYER 

will  appear  in  later  chapters,  he  should  remember  that  there 
is  this  grave  difficulty  in  so  doing. 

If,  on  the  contrary,  we  decide  that  in  prayer  the  influx  from 
the  subconsciousness  into  consciousness  involves  nothing  either 
physical  or  mental  except  the  resources  of  the  organism,  what 
are  the  consequences?  The  Atheist  of  course  may  claim  that 
such  a  conclusion  is  in  entire  agreement  with  his  opinion,  that 
no  God  exists  in  the  universe  at  all.  The  Agnostic  may  assert 
that  this  conclusion,  indicating  that  the  psychology  of  prayer 
does  not  involve  the  assumption  of  an  external  God,  favors 
his  contention  that  the  question  whether  God  exists  cannot 
be  known.  But  if  we  make  this  decision  are  we  necessarily  com- 
mitted either  to  atheism,  or  to  agnosticism? 

It  seems  to  the  author  that  another  possibility  remains. 
Prayer  may,  -from  a  scientific  standpoint,  be  wholly  due  to 
organic  processes,  mental  and  neural,  and  yet  from  a  religious 
and  philosophical  standpoint  it  may  involve  the  action  of  God. 
Though  astronomers  do  not  mention  God  in  their  lectures  or 
writings  on  astronomy,  many  of  them  are  none  the  less  believers 
in  God,  and  the  same  is  true  of  other  natural  scientists. 
Astronomers  may  say  that  from  the  standpoint  of  their  science 
gravitation  and  not  Divine  action  is  the  explanation  of  the 
reason  why  planets  move  in  their  orbits.  Biologists  may  say 
that  natural  selection  and  not  immediate  creation  is  the  ex- 
planation of  the  origin  of  species.  Yet  neither  gravitation  nor 
natural  selection  nor  any  other  scientific  law  states  the  ultimate 
reason  for  any  event;  such  laws  merely  state  how  events  go 
on,  not  why  they  go  on  in  that  way.  Gravitation  and  natural 
selection  are  mere  generalizations  of  what  has  been  observed 
to  happen;  they  are  not  entities.  It  would  be  scientifically  as 
well  as  logically  absurd  to  say  that  "gravitation  makes  things 
fall,"  "natural  selection  makes  species  arise;"  one  might  as 
well  say  like  the  physician  in  Moliere's  play  that  opium  puts 
people  to  sleep  on  account  of  its  "dormative  properties."  It 
is  quite  possible  for  the  natural  scientist  who  is  a  believer  in 
God  to  say  that  gravitation  is  the  way  that  God  acts  in  keep- 
ing particles  of  matter  in  their  places,  that  natural  selection 
is  the  way  God  acts  in  bringing  new  species  into  existence; 
that  every  verified  natural  law  is  a  statement  of  how  God  thinks 
and  acts  and  that  every  important  scientific  hypothesis  is  a 
theory  about  the  manner  in  which  God  thinks  and  acts.  The 
entire  physical  universe  is  the  garment  of  Deity,  and  its  pro- 


OBJECTIVITY  283 

cesses  are  the  physical  counterparts  of  expressions  of  the 
Divine  thoughts.  This  supposition,  to  be  sure,  is  not  science, 
and  should  have  no  place  in  scientific  books,  not  because  it  may 
not  be  true,  but  because  it  has  no  bearing  upon  scientific 
problems.  This  is  the  hypothesis  of  an  immanent  God,  i.  e.  of 
a  God  present  in  everything  in  Nature,  so  that  all  natural 
processes  are  His  actions.  One  species  of  this  view  is  called 
"pantheism";  but  this  term,  like  "theism"  has  been  used  in  so 
many  contradictory  senses  that  it  seems  best  to  avoid  it  alto- 
gether. From  this  hypothesis  of  an  immament  God  it  would  fol- 
low that  prayer,  too,  involves  Divine  action  when  viewed  from 
a  philosophical  or  a  religious  standpoint,  and  that  it  is  so 
to  be  regarded  from  the  standpoint  of  the  philosophy  of  reli- 
gion, but  that  the  hypothesis  of  God  has  no  proper  place  in 
the  psychology  of  religion  any  more  than  in  any  other  science. 
On  this  theory,  to  say  that  prayer  is  wholly  an  affair  of  the 
organism,  interpreted  scientifically,  is  not  to  deny  that  it  is 
the  action  of  God,  but  to  affirm  it. 

The  conception  of  an  immanent  God  will  become  clearer  to 
the  reader  after  the  discussion  of  God  in  the  earlier  chapters  of 
Part  III.  Let  us  conclude  the  present  chapter  with  a  more  con- 
crete discussion  of  the  theory  of  an  immanent  God  in  its  appli- 
cation to  prayer. 

Suppose  a  person  prays,  who  believes  in  the  immanent  theory 
of  God  just  mentioned,  and  who  believes  that,  from  the  stand- 
point of  psychology  prayer  is  a  process  that  goes  on  wholly 
within  his  own  organism.  For  such  a  person  is  prayer  objec- 
tive? The  author  thinks  that  we  may  say,  Yes.  Such  a  person 
is  convinced  that  God  exists  in  the  universe.  The  philosophical 
arguments  for  the  existence  of  God  appear  stronger  to  him 
than  those  against  it.  In  prayer,  an  Alter  is  present  in  his 
consciousness  that  symbolizes  God  for  him  as  clearly  and  defin- 
itely as  is  possible  for  a  person  of  his  intelligence  and  experi- 
ence. Such  an  Alter,  he  believes,  is  not  a  mere  fiction  of  his 
imagination,  but  a  symbol  of  a  Being  that  actually  exists.  In 
prayer  and  meditation  he  is  thinking  of  a  real  personality. 
Suppose  a  son  in  meditation  were  to  think  of  an  absent  mother 
and  carry  on  an  imaginary  conversation  with  her,  and  that 
to  do  this  helped  him  to  solve  some  difficulty.  He  would  be 
thinking,  not  of  an  imaginary  person,  but  of  a  real  person, — 
his  mother.  And  the  influence  upon  him,  we  might  say,  in  a 
sense,  really  is  exerted  by  his  mother;  the  fact  that  the  idea 


284  PRAYER 

of  his  mother  can  influence  him  at  such  a  time  is  a  consequence 
of  the  actual  relations  that  he  has  had  with  her  in  the  past. 
So  we  may  say  that  the  mother  does  exist  in  the  mind  of  her 
son  when  he  thinks  of  her  in  this  way.  And,  on  the  immanent 
theory  of  prayer,  more  can  be  said  for  its  objective  validity 
even  than  this.  For  there  is  another  sense,  of  course,  in  which 
the  mother  is  not  actually  present  before  her  son  when  he  thinks 
of  her;  her  presence  before  him  is  a  creation  of  his  mind.  In 
prayer,  however,  if  we  accept  the  immanent  theory  of  God,  we 
should  say  that  God  actually  is  present  in  the  Alter.  For 
God,  on  this  view  is  everywhere,  and  in  all  things. 

Nor  does  this  mean  that  God  is  present  to  the  person  who 
prays  merely  in  the  sense  that  He  is  equally  present  in  every- 
thing whatever,  in  a  stone  or  a  clod,  in  a  worm  or  a  toad. 
While  God  is  in  all  things,  and  all  things  are  expressions  of 
Him,  all  things  are  not  equally  expressions  of  Him.  The 
lowliest  organism  is  a  better  expression  of  Him  than  anything 
inorganic ;  animals  are  more  adequate  expressions  than  plants ; 
man,  who  can  reason,  is  a  fuller  expression  than  any  other 
animal;  and  the  good  man  is  a  fuller  expression  than  the  bad 
man.  The  loftiest  Alter  that  has  yet  been  conceived  in  prayer 
is  the  fullest  expression  of  God  that  has  yet  become  compre- 
hensible to  the  mind  of  man  on  the  earth.  If,  therefore,  man 
would  try  to  find  God  he  must  not  look  without,  though  God  in 
some  sense  is  everywhere — but  he  must  look  within,  for  in  the 
Alter  of  his  purest  and  sincerest  prayers  is  God  most  fully 
revealed  to  him.  So,  in  a  profound  sense,  on  this  theory  of  an 
immanent  God,  the  Alter  of  prayer  is  the  immanent  God  of  the 
universe  of  whom  a  man  has  become  self-conscious  in  his  own 
personal  experience. 

REFERENCES 

ANNA  LOUISE  STRONG,  The  Psychology  of  Prayer. 

CHARLES  HORTON  COOLEY,  Human  Nature  and  the  Social  Order,  Chapters 
III-VI,  X. 

*GEORGE  BARTON  CUTTEN,  Psychological  Phenomena  of  Christianity, 
Chapters  XV,  XVI,  XXVIII. 

*GEORGE  ALBERT  COE,  The  Spiritual  Life,  Chapter  IV.     The  Religion  of 
a  Mature  Mind,  Chapter  XI.     The  Psychology  of  Religion,  Chapter  XVIII. 
*H.  E.  FOSDICK,  The  Meaning  of  Prayer. 

JAMES  BISSETT  PRATT,  The  Religious  Consciousness t  Chapter  XV,  and 
pp.  217-223. 

*SAMUEL  McCoMB,  Prayer — What  it  Is  and  What  it  Does. 
*S.  W.  RANSOM,  "Studies  in  the  Psychology  of  Prayer,"  American  Journal 
of  Religious  Psychology  and  Education,  Vol.  I  (1904),  pp.  129-142. 
*FRANK  ORMAN  BECK,   (Same  Journal,  Vol.  II,  pp.  116,  ff.). 


OBJECTIVITY  285 

JAMES  H.  LECBA,  "The  Contents  of  the  Religious  Consciousness,"   The 
Monist,  Vol.  XI,  pp.  536-573. 

AMY  ELIZA  TANNER,  in  Psychological  Bulletin,  1907,  pp.  33,  ff. 
*WILLIAM  JAMES,  "The  Energies  of  Men"  in  Memories  and  Studies. 

WILLIAM  JAMES,   The   Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  463-477; 
523,  f. 

ELLWOOD  WORCESTER,  et.  al.  Religion  and  Medicine.     (The  Emmanuel 
Movement.) 

*  ANONYMOUS,  "What  Prayer  Has  Done  for  Me,"  American  Magazine, 
Oct.,  1919,  pp.  53,  ff. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

MYSTICISM 

I — Introduc  tory 

WE  have  seen  that  the  endeavor  of  religion  is  always  to  con- 
serve values  through  an  Agency,  and  that  in  Christianity  and 
Judaism  this  Agency  is  believed  to  be  personal,  is  God.  In 
prayer  an  imaginative  social  process  is  carried  on  with  God, 
who,  it  is  believed,  hears,  and  in  accordance  with  His  wisdom, 
answers  human  petitions.  Now,  suppose  that  a  person,  when 
he  prays,  could  somehow  become  conscious  of  the  presence  of 
God,  just  as  he  is  aware  of  the  presence  of  another  human 
being  when  he  converses  with  him!  How  comforting  and 
sustaining  would  such  assurance  be!  How  much  more  effec- 
tively would  religion  conserve  moral  values  for  him!  If  God, 
who  is  purely  spiritual,  is  to  be  perceived  in  some  manner,  it 
obviously  cannot  be  through  the  senses ;  for  it  is  impossible  to 
see  His  face  and  to  hear  His  voice  with  human  eyes  and  ears ; 
He  must  be  perceived  inwardly.  Many  have  believed  this  inward 
perception  to  be  possible;  in  fact,  that  they  have  experienced 
it. 

Consider  what  it  is  like  to  engage  in  conversation  with  a  very 
intimate  friend,  with  whom  there  is  perfect  understanding.  It 
is  often  possible  for  close  friends  to  commune  in  silent  intimacy, 
not  needing  to  talk  for  intervals,  so  perfect  is  their  mutual 
comprehension.  At  such  times,  friends  certainly  give  little 
thought  of  each  other's  physical  appearance,  or  the  sounds  of 
their  voices.  To  be  sure,  these  are  all  of  a  friend  which  can 
be  seen  and  heard  with  the  eyes  and  ears  of  sense.  What  a 
person  is  most  aware  of,  as  constituting  his  friend,  however, 
is  his  personality — his  soul,  if  you  please — that  of  him  which 
is  inwardly  perceived.  So  the  problem  for  the  mystical  wor- 
shipper is  how  he  can  become  inwardly  aware  of  a  Person  who 
does  not  have  a  physical  body,  but  who,  he  believes,  exists  as 
truly  and  has  even  more  definite  Individuality  than  any  human 
being,  and  is  more  deeply  and  truly  one's  Friend — nay,  who 

286 


MILDER  FORMS  287 

loves  and  understands  infinitely  more  than  any  fellow  human 
being  does  or  can. 

We  may  accordingly  define  Religious  Mysticism  in  general 
as  the  endeavor  to  secure  consciousness  of  the  'presence  of  the 
Agency  through  Which  (or  through  Whom)  the  conservation 
of  socially  recognized  values  is  sought.  For  Christianity  and 
Judaism,  religions  for  which  the  Agency  is  God,  mysticism  is 
accordingly  the  cultivation  of  the  consciousness  of  the  presence 
of  God. 

II — Milder  Forms  of  Mysticism 

In  its  milder  form,  religious  mysticism  is  a  fairly  common 
experience  to-day,  as  Professor  Pratt  has  taught  us,  1.  It  is 
a  great  mistake  to  make  too  much  of  a  mystery  of  mysticism, 
or  to  limit  it  to  the  startling  forms  which  it  sometimes  has 
assumed  in  the  lives  of  the  saints.  Every  reader  knows  good 
and  saintly  people — including  very  likely  his  own  mother  and 
father — who  have  experienced  religious  mysticism.  In  every 
church  and  synagogue  there  are  at  least  a  few  sincerely 
religious  people  who  could  testify,  if  modesty  did  not  forbid, 
that  they  feel  God  present  at  their  sides,  even  at  times  when 
they  are  not  consciously  engaged  in  religious  worship,  and  that 
He  constantly  guides  and  sustains  them.  In  their  own  lives 
they  have  known  the  experiences  described  in  the  twenty-third 
and  many  other  of  the  Psalms,  2. 

Miss  Underhill  (3)  has  set  forth  with  careful  descriptive 
analysis,  five  stages  of  the  "mystic  way,"  as  experienced  by 
the  great  saints  and  mystics  of  the  various  religions  of  the 
world.  To  some  extent,  as  the  author  believes,  it  can  be  main- 
tained that  every  sincerely  religious  person  treads  this  "mystic 
way."  The  first  step,  for  the  ordinary  religious  person,  is  the 
"awakening"  of  the  religious  life,  which,  as  we  have  seen, 
usually  is  experienced  in  adolescence.  The  significance  of 
religion  then  first  comes  home  to  a  person,  and  he  gains  an 
enlargement  of  his  self  through  continuous  growth,  spon- 
taneous awakening  or  conversion.  The  Alter  of  prayer  becomes 
a  deeper  and  more  meaningful  reality  to  him.  He  has  times 
of  spiritual  "illumination"  or  enhancement,  when  his  religious 
beliefs  are  real  and  vivid,  when  he  feels  uplifted,  when  it  is  easy 
to  do  right,  and  he  has  a  sense  of  close  communion  with  the 
Alter.  But  on  other  occasions  he  sometimes  has  periods  of 
depression,  when  he  feels  painfully  conscious  of  his  own  short- 


288  MYSTICISM 

comings  and  imperfections,  and  he  does  not  feel  the  presence 
of  the  Alter.  Old  habits  and  points  of  view  in  conflict  with 
the  Alter  have  driven  the  latter  temporarily  out  of  the  focus 
of  conscious  attention.  This  may  be  the  consequence  of  a 
moral  lapse,  or  it  may  merely  be  the  result  of  nervous  fatigue 
and  the  sheer  impossibility  of  keeping  consciously  upon  an 
exalted  plane  to  which  the  person's  mind  and  brain  have  not 
yet  become  habituated.  He  realizes  that  if  he  is  to  remain 
true  to  the  Alter,  and  to  retain  a  sense  of  His  continued  pres- 
ence and  favor,  there  must  be  removed  from  his  mind,  character, 
and  life  everything  that  is  in  any  way  in  conflict  with  the  Alter. 
To  the  modern  Protestant  layman  this  means,  simply,  that  he 
must  sincerely  repent  of  his  sins,  reform  his  manner  of  living, 
and  cultivate  private  and  public  religious  worship.  To  Chris- 
tians with  different  traditions,  it  has  sometimes  meant  "purga- 
tion," to  be  effected  by  (1)  rigorous  "detachment"  from 
every  worldly  tie  that  might  in  any  way  conflict  with  whole- 
hearted devotion  to  God  in  the  manner  taught  by  the  Church 
(including  for  monks  and  nuns  poverty,  celibacy,  and 
obedience),  and  (2)  "mortification" — the  doing  of  unpleasant 
things  in  order  to  discipline  oneself  to  absolute  submission  to 
God. 

When  once  those  obstacles  have  been  removed  that  stood  in 
the  way  of  whole-hearted  devotion  to  the  Alter,  and  concentra- 
tion of  attention  upon  Him,  the  sense  of  the  Divine  presence 
becomes  more  frequent,  and  requires  less  effort.  Physiologically 
this  means  that  whatever  brain  paths  furnish  the  neural  side 
of  religious  worship  have  become  more  firmly  fixed,  and  that 
conflicting  pathways  have  been  suppressed,  and  rendered 
impervious  to  neural  stimulation.  Such  attainment,  of  course, 
does  not  come  all  at  once ;  perhaps  it  is  never  entirely  complete 
during  any  human  lifetime.  But,  by  middle  age,  a  person's 
habits  and  points  of  view  are  relatively  set.  The  sincerely 
religious  person,  by  the  time  he  is  forty,  has  usually  formed 
his  conceptions  of  God  as  they  are  likely  to  remain,  and  has 
adjusted  his  activities  in  accordance  with  them.  Such  an  one, 
if  a  layman  of  liberal  views  to-day,  may  take  a  mild  form  of 
"union"  with  God  for  granted ;  his  conscience  is  fairly  clear ; 
he  feels  assured  that  God  is  with  him,  and  watches  over  him,  and 
that  He  helps  and  guides  him  in  knowing  and  doing  what  is 
right,  and  in  recognizing  and  overcoming  temptations.  At 
times  his  insight  into  spiritual  matters  is  more  than  ordinarily 


THE  GREAT  MYSTICS  289 

keen,  and  he  feels  particularly  blest ;  at  other  times  he  is  rather 
depressed  and  low  spirited.  But  the  latter  occasions  do  not 
unduly  discourage  him;  for  such  an  one  it  would  be  exaggera- 
tion to  describe  them  as  "the  dark  night  of  the  soul."  For  he 
knows  that  they  are  temporary,  and  will  presently  pass  away 
if  he  is  faithful  to  God  and  seeks  his  help.  The  vividness  with 
which  the  presence  of  God  is  felt,  the  intensity  of  joy  which 
it  affords  and  of  sorrow  which  its  absence  brings,  vary  largely 
with  individual  temperaments.  Level  headed  phlegmatic  people 
do  not  experience  extreme  exaltation  and  deep  despair ;  avoiding 
the  heights  and  the  depths,  they  often  are  more  rational  and 
practical  religious  workers  but  they  sometimes  are  deficient  in 
enthusiasm  and  insight. 

So  much  for  religious  mysticism  of  the  milder  forms,  with 
which  the  majority  of  the  readers  of  this  book  are  acquainted, 
either  as  the  result  of  personal  experience  or  the  observation 
of  their  religiously  minded  friends.  But  what  of  the  more 
remarkable  experiences  of  the  "great  mystics"  among  whose 
number  must  be  reckoned  the  Hebrew  prophets  and  the  Christian 
saints,  as  well  as  some  of  the  great  Protestant  reformers? 

Ill — The  Great  Mystics 

The  great  prophets  and  saints  of  Christianity  and  Judaism 
have  all  possessed  unusually  profound  grasp  of  moral  and 
religious  principles.  This  is  not  to  say  that  they  have  all 
been  highly  educated  persons,  by  any  means.  But  they  have 
known  their  Bibles  thoroughly,  and  have  thought  long  and 
earnestly  upon  religious  subjects.  For  them  the  Alter  is 
rich  in  content;  God  is  a  term  full  of  meaning.  Further, 
through  prayer  they  have  persistently  endeavored  to  make  the 
presence  of  God  real  and  vivid ;  it  has  been  their  desire,  like 
Enoch,  to  "walk  with  God;"  like  Moses  and  Jeremiah  to 
converse  intimately  with  Him ;  like  Amos  and  Isaiah  under  the 
impulsion  of  His  Spirit  to  bring  His  messages  to  others ;  like 
Ezekiel  and  Daniel  to  see  something  of  His  glory. 

Writers  on  mysticism  sometimes  say  that  St.  Paul  is  the 
most  striking  mystical  figure  in  the  New  Testament.  His 
conversion  to  Christianity  was  apparently  abrupt,  coming  as 
a  sudden  uprush  from  the  subconsciousness  of  impressions  made 
upon  him  by  the  piety  and  courage  of  St.  Stephen  and  the  others 
whom  he  had  persecuted.  He  could  no  longer  resist  these 
goads  upon  his  conscience,  and  for  several  days  he  was  dazed 


290  MYSTICISM; 

with  visual  and  auditory  automatisms.  This  "awakening"  was 
followed  by  a  "retreat"  in  the  desert  country  of  Arabia  (4) 
where  he  sought  in  quiet  to  readjust  himself  to  the  new  faith. 
Three  years  later  he  visited  Jerusalem,  when,  as  Miss  Underhill 
suggests,  he  perhaps  experienced  his  first  ecstacy  while  praying 
in  the  Temple,  when  he  "was  caught  up  into  the  third  heaven," 
"heard  unspeakable  words,"  and  foresaw  his  future  vocation  to 
the  Gentiles,  5.  She  thinks  that  he  thereafter  spent  ten  or 
twelve  years  in  humble  Christian  work,  in  submission  to  his 
ecclesiastical  superiors.  With  ripened  powers,  he  ultimately 
became  prepared  for  more  exalted  service.  The  church  at 
Antioch  accordingly  sent  him  with  Barnabas  out  upon 
missionary  service,  6.  The  responsibility  and  opportunity  then 
afforded  him  brought  into  expression  the  powers  that  had  been 
developing  during  the  years  of  his  apprenticeship.  He  gained 
"illumination" — i.  e.,  was  "filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost,"  and 
constantly  experienced  "visions  and  revelations  of  the  Lord," 
excelling  all  others  in  gifts  of  suggestion  and  healing,  7,  and 
"speaking  with  tongues,"  8.  He  tells  the  Galatians  that  he 
bore  branded  on  his  body  "the  marks  of  Jesus,"  9. 

More  important  than  visions,  ecstacies,  prophesying,  and 
speaking  with  tongues,  in  his  own  judgment  as  well  as  ours, 
were  his  great  faith  and  his  love  for  God  and  men,  10.  God  and 
Christ  were  very  close  to  him.  "Christ  lives  in  me."  God 
hath  "shined  in  our  hearts,  to  give  the  light  of  the  knowledge 
of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ."  "The  Spirit 
himself  beareth  witness  with  our  spirit,  that  we  are  the  children 
of  God."  "For  me  to  live  is  Christ,"  11.  Professor  Rufus  M. 
Jones  says:  "Paul's  'Gospel'  from  beginning  to  end,  whether 
its  sacred  word  is  'love'  or  'faith'  presupposes  a  human  person 
partaking  of  the  Divine  Life,  which  freely  gives  itself,  and  it 
points  away  to  a  consummation  in  which  the  Spirit  and  law 
of  this  Divine  Life  become  the  Spirit  and  Law  of  'a  new 
creature' — a  man  in  whom  Christ  is  relived.  His  'new  man' 
is  a  supernatural  inward  creation  wrought  by  the  Spirit  who 
is  identical  with  Christ — 'the  Lord  is  the  Spirit' — who  enters 
into  the  man  and  becomes  in  him  power,  and  life,  and  spiritual- 
izing energy,"  12. 

The  mystical  religious  experiences  of  St.  Paul  were  shared 
with  others,  and  became  the  common  property  of  the  saints 
of  the  church.  So  the  profound  mystical  sacramentalism  and 
philosophy  of  the  Gospel  and  Epistles  of  John  were  rendered 


THE  GREAT  MYSTICS 

possible,  and  their  author  (or  authors)  could  portray  Jesus 
in  terms  of  the  closest  intimacy  with  God,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  with  his  followers  on  the  other,  13.  "I  am  in  my  Father, 
and  ye  in  Me,  and  I  in  you."  "I  am  the  Bread  of  Life."  "I 
am  the  Door."  "I  am  the  true  vine,  and  my  Father  is  the 
husbandman."  "I  am  the  vine  and  ye  are  the  branches." 
"Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  Man  and  drink  His  blood, 
ye  have  no  life  in  yourselves.  He  that  eateth  my  flesh  and 
drinketh  my  blood  hath  eternal  life,"  14*.  Jesus  is  the  eternal 
Logos  manifested  in  the  flesh,  and  is  "the  life  of  men,"  God 
incarnate  and  operative  in  a  human  being,  and  through  him,  in 
other  human  beings.  These  writings  could  have  come  only  from 
one  who  has  personally  known  the  mystical  experiences  of  which 
he  wrote.  "We  speak  that  we  do  know,  and  testify  what  we 
have  seen."  "This  is  the  disciple  that  beareth  witness  of  these 
things,  and  wrote  these  things,  and  we  know  that  his  witness 
is  true,"  15. 

As  Dr.  Loisy  says,  the  Fourth  Gospel  "is  above  all  a 
personal  work,  which  bears  from  one  end  to  the  other  the  mark 
of  the  powerful  genius  who  conceived  it  ...  all  the  materials 
which  the  author  has  used  have  passed  through  the  crucible  of 
his  powerful  intellect  and  his  mystical  soul;  and  they  have 
come  forth  from  it  metamorphosed,  intimately  penetrated  and 
fused  together,  by  the  idea  of  the  eternal  Christ,  the  Divine 
source  of  light  and  life,"  16. 

In  almost  every  age  since  New  Testament  times  there  have 
been  religious  geniuses  who,  more  than  ordinary  men,  have 
been  able  to  grasp  the  significance  of  the  Christian  faith,  to 
feel  it  inwardly,  and  to  project  it  into  the  Alter  of  their  prayers, 
with  Whom  they  have  come  into  terms  of  the  closest  and  most 
loving  intimacy.  The  finest  expression  of  mysticism  in  the 
ancient  Catholic  Church  is  the  Confessions  of  Saint  Augustine 
(T4.30).  "Thou  awakest  us  to  delight  in  Thy  praise,"  17. 
"And  being  thence  admonished  to  return  to  myself,  I  entered 
even  into  my  inward  self.  Thou  being  my  Guide;  and  able  I 
was,  for  Thou  wert  become  my  Helper.  And  I  entered  and 
beheld  with  the  eye  of  my  soul  .  .  the  Light  Unchange- 
able. .  .  He  that  knows  the  Truth,  knows  what  that  Light 
is,  and  he  that  knows  It,  knows  eternity.  Love  knoweth  it. 
O  Truth  who  art  Eternity!  and  Love  who  art  Truth!  and 
Eternity  who  art  Love!  Thou  art  my  God,  to  Thee  do  I  sigh 
night  and  day,"  18. 


292  MYSTICISM 

Early  in  the  fifteenth  century  was  written  the  Imitation  of 
Christ,  supposedly  by  Thomas  a  Kempis,  a  book  which,  as 
George  Eliot  said,  "works  miracles  to  this  day,  turning  bitter 
waters  into  sweetness.  And  so  it  remains  to  all  time  a  lasting 
record  of  human  needs  and  human  consolations."  The  words 
of  this  book  are  simple  and  penetrating.  "  'He  that  followeth 
me,  walketh  not  in  darkness,5  said  the  Lord.  .  .  Let  there- 
fore our  chiefest  endeavor  be,  to  meditate  on  the  life  of  Jesus 
Christ."  "Seek  a  convenient  time  to  retire  into  thyself,  and 
meditate  often  upon  God's  loving  kindness.  Shut  thy  door 
upon  thee,  and  call  unto  thee  Jesus,  thy  Beloved.  Stay  with 
Him  in  thy  closet;  for  thou  shalt  not  find  so  great  peace 
anywhere  else."  "When  Jesus  is  present,  all  is  well,  and  nothing 
seems  difficult ;  but  when  Jesus  is  absent,  everything  is  hard. 
...  It  is  a  matter  of  great  skill  to  know  how  to  hold 
converse  with  Jesus ;  and  to  know  how  to  keep  Jesus  a  point 
of  great  wisdom.  Be  thou  humble  and  peaceable,  and  Jesus  will 
be  with  thee.  Be  devout  and  quiet,  and  Jesus  will  stay  with 
thee.  .  .  .  Love  all  for  Jesus,  but  Jesus  for  Himself,"  20. 

The  literature  of  medieval  and  modern  Christian  mysticism 
is  extensive.  Attention  may  be  called  to  the  Revelations  of 
Divine  Love  of  Mother  Julian  of  Norwich  (about  1373)  in 
the  modern  version  of  which  some  of  the  medieval  quaintness 
of  language  is  charmingly  preserved,  as  well  as  to  the  History 
and  Life  of  the  Reverend  John  Tauler  and  his  Sermons 
(about  1340).  These  are  not  too  mystical  to  be  understood 
by  anyone  who  is  willing  to  take  them  up  sympathetically. 
Saint  Teresa  and  St.  John  of  the  Cross  are  among  the  most 
penetrating  of  the  great  modern  mystics.  The  mystical 
passages  in  The  Way  of  Perfection  and  The  History  of  ih& 
Foundations  of  the  former  give  much  of  her  spirit  and  are 
less  difficult  (and,  of  course,  less  profound)  than  her  Life  and 
Interior  Castle.  Among  Protestant  mystical  books  John 
Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress  and  George  Fox's  Journal  are 
perhaps  best  known  to  English  readers,  and  most  worth  while. 

IV — Spiritual  Exercises 

The  most  remarkable  book  of  directions  for  the  cultivation 
of  inner  religious  experience  is  the  Spiritual  Exercises  of  Saint 
Ignatius  Loyola  (fl556),  the  founder  of  the  Jesuit  order. 
Written  out  of  his  own  experience  for  the  help  of  those  who 
might  be  seeking  under  Divine  guidance  to  know  their  voca- 


SPIRITUAL  EXERCISES 

tlon  in  life,  it  probably  furnishes  the  most  effective  means 
by  which  any  one  of  similar  religious  beliefs  might  attain  a 
keen  inward  sense  and  appreciation  of  God  and  zeal  to  serve 
Him.  The  exercises  are  to  be  carried  out  in  solitude  in  pur- 
suance of  directions  given  by  an  experienced  Jesuit  father, 
whose  duty  it  is  to  modify  them  to  meet  individual  tempera- 
ments and  needs.  The  director  is  in  no  way  to  influence  the 
exercitant  who  will  select  his  vocation  for  himself,  solely  in 
accordance  with  the  Divine  guidance  which  he  believes  that  he 
receives. 

The  first  exercise  consists  of  (1)  a  preparatory  prayer,  in 
which  God's  grace  is  sought  that  the  exercise  may  be  faithfully 
performed  in  His  service;  (2)  an  attempt  to  imagine  visually 
Christ  or  the  Virgin  in  some  definite  place  and  time  in  their 
lives;  (3)  to  make  a  petition  to  God,  appropriate  to  the  event 
visualized  (such  as  that  one  may  be  joyful  if  the  person  has 
imagined  the  Resurrection,  that  he  may  feel  shame  and  con- 
fusion for  his  sins  if  he  has  imagined  the  Passion,  etc.)  ;  (4)  to 
exercise  the  memory,  reason,  and  will  over  the  fall  of  the  angels, 
and  contrast  his  own  repeated  sins  with  their  single  sin;  (5) 
similarly  to  exercise  memory,  reason  and  will  upon  the  sins  of 
Adam  and  Eve;  (6)  similarly  to  ponder  over  how  for  one  single 
sin  better  men  have  been  lost  forever;  (7)  to  imagine  Christ 
upon  the  Cross  and  to  make  to  Him  a  colloquy,  addressing  Him 
"just  as  one  friend  speaks  to  another,  or  a  servant  to  his 
master,"  and  reviewing  how  "He  has  come  to  make  Himself 
man  .  .  and  so  to  die  for  my  sins,"  and  "looking  at  myself" 
"to  consider  what  I  have  done  for  Christ,  what  I  am  doing  for 
Christ,  what  I  ought  to  do  for  Christ,  and  so  seeing  Him  in 
such  condition  fastened  on  the  Cross,  to  think  over  what  shall 
occur." 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  such  exercises  faithfully  gone  through 
in  privacy  for  four  weeks,  reviewing  the  life,  passion,  death 
and  resurrection  of  Christ,  and  the  main  points  in  Christian 
teaching  connected  with  them,  making  these  as  vivid  as  pos- 
sible in  imagination,  and  emotion,  must  effect  a  profound 
impression  upon  a  person's  mind  and  character  for  the  rest  of 
his  life.  His  religious  beliefs  and  convictions  would  become 
tremendously  real ;  they  would  be  woven  into  the  tissues  of  his 
memories  and  aspirations ;  they  would  become  the  dominating 
force  in  his  personality.  The  Alteri  of  his  devotions  (God; 
Christ;  the  Blessed  Virgin)  would  become  intensely  vivid  in 


294.  MYSTICISM 

his  imagination;  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  hold  intimate 
colloquies  with  them  as  if  they  were  persons  bodily  present. 
One  can  see  why  the  Jesuits  were  able  to  reform  the  Catholic 
portion  of  Europe  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries, 
and  why  as  intrepid  missionaries  they  visited  the  hitherto 
inaccessible  parts  of  the  earth,  overcoming  through  vital  faith 
and  courage  what  to  ordinary  men  would  have  been  insuperable 
obstacles. 

As  a  rule,  Christian  mystics  have  not  followed  such  precise 
directions  as  those  given  by  Saint  Ignatius  Loyola,  but  they 
have  all  had  more  or  less  definite  modes  of  procedure,  by  which 
they  have  endeavored  to  concentrate  their  attention  upon  God 
and  to  make  His  presence  vivid  and  real.  Methods  have 
naturally  varied  with  the  customs  and  ideals  of  different 
centuries. 

Critics  of  mysticism  have  claimed  that  it  employs  methods 
of  auto-suggestion  and  self-hypnotism.  Continuous  concen- 
tration of  the  attention  upon  a  cross  or  crucifix,  or  even  the 
imagined  figure  of  God,  Christ,  or  a  saint,  brings  on  trance 
states,  comparable  to  crystal  gazing,  it  is  alleged.  Professor 
Coe  has  claimed  that  he  has  gained  an  understanding  of.  the 
spiritual  states  of  the  great  mystics  by  inducing  a  senii- 
hypnotic  trance  as  a  result  of  steadily  fixing  his  eyes  and 
attention  upon  a  moderately  bright  object,  21.  But,  although 
methods  in  some  respects  similar  to  suggestion  and  hypnotism 
have  often  been  used  by  mystics,  one  outstanding  feature  of 
mysticism  must  not  be  overlooked.  The  Christian  mystics  have 
always  spent  much  time  upon  their  Bibles  and  other  devotional 
literature.  Much  religious  lore  and  aspiration  are  consciously 
and  subconsciously  retained,  and  for  them  constitute  the  Alter. 
And  just  as  in  ordinary  prayer  but  on  a  more  extensive  scale, 
merits  and  graces  attributed  to  the  Alter,  are  communicable 
to  the  ego.  The  Imitation  of  Christ  and  the  Pilgrim's  Progress 
are  well  named.  While  travelling  on  the  mystic  way  the  pilgrim 
makes  his  progress  toward  the  realization  of  Heaven  in  his 
soul,  and  this  journey  is  an  imitation  so  far  as  the  weakness 
of  human  nature  permits,  of  the  Christ  of  his  prayers  and 
colloquies. 

Thus  far  emphasis  has  been  placed,  in  the  account  of  the 
great  mystics  as  well  as  the  milder  mysticism  of  ordinary  devout 
people,  upon  the  spiritual  side — the  sense  of  intimate  com- 
munion with  God.  This  is  the  aim  of  mysticism,  always.  But 


ECSTACY  295 

what  of  the  more  startling  phenomena  in  the  experiences  of 
many  of  the  great  mystics?  This  leads  us  to  the  subject  of 
Ecstasy. 

V — Ecstasy 

In  the  lives  of  the  great  mystics,  after  the  process  of  "purga- 
tion" began  to  near  completion,  and  ideas  and  impulses  in 
conflict  with  the  Alter  had  become  largely  expelled  or  subju- 
gated, there  came  times  when  the  mystic  found  his  mind 
spontaneously  moving  upon  another  plane.  Such  states  might 
be  immediately  preceded  by  voluntary  concentration  of  the 
mind  upon  a  fixed  object  or  idea  of  religious  devotion,  and  so 
be  self-induced,  or  they  might  come  on  without  effort  or 
expectation.  The  general  characteristics  of  the  ecstatic  state, 
are,  as  Dr.  Cutten  says,  "concentration  of  attention  on  one 
dominant  idea  or  object,  loss  of  normal  self-control,  insensi- 
bility to  external  impressions,  and  intense  emotional  excite- 
ment," 22.  Ecstacy  is  usually  highly  joyful;  and  there  is 
subsequent  memory  of  the  events  or  visions  experienced,  at  least 
in  a  general  way.  The  state  passes,  after  a  while,  leaving  the 
mystic  somewhat  fatigued ;  but  with  a  memory  that  is  often 
precious,  and  it  may  have  a  lasting  effect  in  raising  the  level 
of  his  character. 

Ecstasy  may  be  a  condition  of  intense  inward  mental  activity 
accompanied  by  outward  calm,  in  which  the  mystic  is  in  intimate 
or  even  rapturous  communion  with  God,  Christ,  the  Blessed 
Virgin  or  a  Saint.  Or  the  ecstasy  may  be  more  violent  in  its 
manifestations,  and  the  person  may  sing,  shout,  or  dance. 

During  ecstasy  there  is  less  than  ordinary  sensibility 
to  external  impressions,  especially  in  the  more  extreme 
trance  like  forms.  Respiration  and  circulation  may  be  partly 
checked.  Vision  and  hearing  may  be  somewhat  impeded.  The 
ordinary  sensations  of  pressure  and  equilibrium  may  be  lost, 
so  that  the  ecstatic  may  feel  that  his  body  has  been  lifted  from 
the  ground  and  that  he  is  walking  in  the  air ;  or  that  he  is  out 
of  the  body  altogether.  There  may  be  little  or  no  sensibility 
to  pain.  This  last  explains  the  apparent  indifference  of  many 
of  the  martyrs  who  sometimes  even  manifested  joy  when 
tortured.  "Stephen's  face  shone  like  that  of  an  angel  while 
he  received  the  stones  from  the  enraged  multitude;  Rogers,  a 
fellow-worker  with  Tyndale,  died  bathing  his  hands  in  the 
flame  as  though  it  were  cold  water;  and  Lawrence,  a  deacon 


296  MYSTICISM 

of  Rome,  was  laid  upon  a  grid  iron ;  with  a  smile,  he  said,  'Turn 
me,  I  am  roasted  on  one  side,'  and  died  without  a  cry  or  moan 
of  pain,  as  calmly  as  if  lying  on  a  bed  of  down,"  23. 

Visions  are  often  experienced  during  ecstasy.  Imagined 
events  are  seen,  intuitively,  with  the  eyes  of  the  mind,  as  if  they 
were  actually  witnessed.  Professor  Pratt  thinks  that,  while 
the  illusion  in  such  cases  may  be  complete  and  constitute  a 
genuine  hallucination,  it  is  more  frequently  the  case  that  ecstatic 
visions  are  merely  "pseudo-hallucinations"  in  which  the  subject 
even  at  the  time  knows  that  they  are  subjective.  Sometimes, 
indeed,  visions  are  no  more  than  unusually  vivid  memories  of 
former  experiences,  24.  In  view  of  the  spiritual  exercises 
engaged  in  by  the  mystics,  in  which  they  endeavor  to  bring 
images  of  persons  and  events  as  vividly  as  possible  before  the 
imagination,  it  can  readily  be  understood  that  they  may  occa- 
sionally so  well  succeed  in  making  these  images  vivid  that  they 
partially  or  even  wholly  mistake  these  products  of  their  con- 
scious and  subconscious  imagination  for  objective  events. 

Saint  Julian  of  Norwich  had  visions  of  Christ  both  while 
he  was  scourged  and  while  he  was  dying.  More  attractive  to 
the  modern  reader,  though,  is  the  vision  in  which  she  says  that 
God  "brought  our  blessed  Lady  to  my  understanding.  I  saw 
her  ghostly,  in  bodily  likeness ;  a  simple  maid  and  a  meek,  young 
of  age  and  little  waxen  above  a  child,  in  the  stature  that  she 
was  when  she  conceived.  Also  God  shewed  in  part  the  wisdom 
and  truth  of  her  soul ;  wherein  I  understood  the  reverent  behold- 
ing in  which  she  beheld  her  God  and  Maker,  marvelling  with 
great  reverence  that  He  would  be  born  of  her  that  was  a  simple 
creature  of  His  making.  And  this  wisdom  and  truth ;  a  knowing 
the  greatness  of  her  Maker  and  the  littleness  of  herself  that 
was  made,  caused  her  to  say  full  meekly  to  Gabriel:  Lo  me, 
God's  hand  maid!  In  this  sight  I  understood  soothly  that  she 
is  more  than  all  that  God  made  beneath  her  in  worthiness  and 
grace;  for  above  her  is  nothing  that  is  made  but  the  blessed 
Manhood  of  Christ,  as  to  my  sight,"  25. 

Visions  are  very  common  in  the  literature  of  nearly  all 
religions.  In  this  simple  vision  of  Saint  Julian  we  can 
discover  the  fundamental  principles  underlying  them  all. 
Images  that  have  developed  in  the  subconsciousness  are  suddenly 
flashed  into  the  focus  of  conscious  attention.  Saint  Julian  had 
probably  often  thought  of  the  little  hand  maiden  of  the  Lord 


ECSTACY  297 

as  she  must  have  appeared  at  the  time  of  the  Annunciation; 
she  now  saw  her  as  before  she  had  imagined  her.  i 

Visions  may  be  experienced  by  a  group  of  persons  at  the 
same  time,  especially  if  they  are  in  an  excited  mental  condition, 
bordering  upon  ecstasy.  Many  soldiers  during  a  battle  are  in 
such  a  state.  "The  ancients  supposed  that  they  saw  their 
deities,  Castor  and  Pollux,  fighting  in  the  van  for  their  encour- 
agement ;  the  heathen  Scandinavians  beheld  the  Choosers  of  the 
Slain,  and  Christians  were  no  less  easily  led  to  recognize  the 
warlike  St.  George  and  St.  James  in  the  front  of  the  strife, 
showing  the  way  to  conquest.  It  will  be  remembered  that  St. 
George  was  seen  on  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  by  the  army  of  the 
Crusaders,  who  did  not  doubt  the  reality  of  the  suggested 
vision,"  26.  Preceding  the  fall  of  Constantinople  in  1453,  many 
had  visions  of  the  Virgin  Mary  appearing  upon  the  walls  of 
the  city,  and  were  led  to  hope  that  she  would  not  allow  it  to 
be  captured  by  the  Turks.  How  such  collective  visions  occurred 
is  rendered  clearer  by  a  well  authenticated  case  in  France  in 
quite  recent  times.  In  1889  in  a  country  district,  Marie 
Magoutier,  eleven  years  of  age  and  of  a  nervous  and  imagina- 
tive temperament,  saw  a  figure  of  the  Virgin  Mary  in  a  hole 
in  a  wall  in  a  country  place.  She  told  her  playmates  of  her 
experience,  and  soon  the  news  spread  through  the  countryside 
like  wild  fire.  Many  visited  the  spot,  more  than  fifteen  hundred 
on  August  11,  1889.  Of  these,  a  considerable  number,  after 
prayer  and  concentrated  effort,  were  vouchsafed  the  blessing 
of  seeing  the  Blessed  Virgin;  and  some  of  them  experienced 
ecstacy,  27.  In  the  light  of  this  incident,  it  can  be  readily 
understood  how  a  highly  imaginative  person  may  see  a  vision, 
and  pass  on  the  contagion  to  others.  The  French  clergy  did 
not  encourage  the  movement  just  mentioned,  and  it  soon 
subsided.  Similarly,  the  leaders  of  Christian  Science  did  not 
encourage  the  expectation  that  visions  of  Mrs.  Eddy  would 
be  experienced  after  her  death,  28 ;  had  they  followed  an  oppo- 
site policy,  it  is  quite  conceivable  that  such  visions  might  have 
become  fairly  common,  and  that  the  resurrection  of  Mrs.  Eddy 
might  in  time  have  become  an  established  tradition  of  their 
church. 

In  ecstatic  states  doctrines  and  other  abstract  principles, 
accepted  but  not  well  comprehended  by  the  mystic,  have  often 
appeared  clear  to  him  by  a  kind  of  inward  feeling  and  under- 
standing. Doctrines  of  the  Trinity,  the  Incarnation,  and  the 


298  ECSTACY 

like,  are  instances.  Faith  in  these  doctrines  is  often  greatly 
strengthened  as  a  result,  although  the  mystic,  after  his 
experience,  can  advance  no  new  arguments.  But  he  has  "seen" 
and  he  has  "felt." 

Among  other  ecstatic  phenomena  may  be  mentioned 
glossolalia  and  stigmatisation.  The  former,  in  which  one 
ecstatic  in  a  revival  bursts  forth  into  a  meaningless  broth  of 
syllables,  which  are  assumed  to  be  words  of  a  foreign  language, 
and  are  interpreted  by  another  member  of  the  congregation, 
under  the  guidance  of  the  Spirit,  is  still  occasionally  found  in 
revivals  in  the  United  States,  29.  The  latter  consists  in  the 
manifestation,  presumed  to  be  a  work  of  divine  grace,  upon  the 
body  of  the  ecstatic  of  wounds  corresponding  to  those  of 
Christ.  The  case  of  St.  Francis  of  Assissi  (f!226)  is  the 
first  on  record,  if  we  decide  that  the  words  of  St.  Paul  were 
not  meant  literally.  St.  Catherine  of  Siena  and  others  received 
this  favor  subsequent  to  St.  Francis.  There  have  been  well 
authenticated  cases  in  recent  times,  30.  Both  of  these 
phenomena  are  attributed  by  modern  psychologists  to  sugges- 
tion and  the  influence  of  the  subconscious. 

VI — Inspiration 

We  speak  of  a  poet  or  artist  as  "inspired."  By  this  we 
mean  that  the  man  has  been  able  to  catch  the  significance  of 
what  others  have  thought  or  felt  dimly  and  confusedly,  and  to 
give  it  an  expression  which  carries  conviction  and  affords 
satisfaction.  The  genius  is  the  interpreter  of  his  age. 

It  is,  indeed,  frequently  the  case  that  an  artist's  creative 
work  is  in  part  done  subconsciously.  He  feels  impelled  to  write 
or  to  paint  or  to  compose  by  some  influence  that  he  does  not 
recognize  as  his  own  personality.  Yet  all  that  he  produces 
is  the  fruit  of  his  previous  studies  and  efforts,  of  what  he  knows 
and  the  technique  he  has  acquired.  The  public  cares  not  at  all 
whether  what  he  produces  has  come  to  his  mind  in  an  ecstatic 
frenzy  or  as  the  outcome  of  calm  deliberation.  It  is  judged 
good  or  bad  in  either  event,  according  to  its  merit,  measured 
by  the  canons  and  taste  of  the  time, — whether  or  not  it  gives 
an  expression  to  the  values  which  the  age  seeks  and  appreciates. 

Professor  Ames  has  pointed  out  that  the  inspiration  of  the 
ancient  Hebrew  prophets  was  similar  in  principle,  31.  Each  of 
them  was  in  touch  with  the  currents  of  social  and  political  life 
of  their  times;  they  were  in  contact  with  the  masses  of  the 


INSPIRATION  299 

people,  they  knew  what  was  going  on  at  court,  and  they  knew 
the  dangers  that  threatened  their  country  from  the  great 
empires  that  surrounded  them.  They  grieved  at  the  prevailing 
political  and  social  injustices  and  moral  corruption.  They 
knew,  too,  the  traditional  customs  and  ideals  of  the  religion 
of  Yahweh.  Moreover,  the  great  writing  prophets,  like  modern 
schools  of  art,  possessed  a  literature,  a  technique,  an  atmos- 
phere. As  the  prophet  pondered  over  the  problems  of  the  times, 
a  solution  sometimes  flashed  into  his  mind,  doubtless  from  the 
subconsciousness.  It  seemed  to  come  from  outside  of  himself. 
So  he  proclaimed  his  message  with  the  prefatory  words,  "The 
word  of  Yahweh  came  unto  me"  or  "Thus  saith  Yahweh."  We 
may  feel  sure  that  if  his  message  carried  conviction,  it  was 
not  so  much  on  the  ground  that  he  had  received  it  in  ecstasy 
as  because  it  was  right  and  reasonable,  and  brought  conviction 
to  the  consciences  of  his  listeners ;  its  value  was  measured  not 
so  much  by  the  psychological  processes  by  which  it  was  expe- 
rienced, as  by  its  ethical  significance. 

The  principle  is  the  same  in  the  inspirations  of  the  New 
Testament  writers  and  of  later  saints.  The  canon  of  the  New 
Testament  consists  of  those  books  which  the  ancient  Catholic 
Church  found  most  helpful  in  interpreting  the  Christ  and  the 
early  Christian  experience.  Each  of  these  books  is  the  interpre- 
tation which  its  author,  out  of  the  experience  of  the  age,  was 
able  to  make  of  the  events  and  doctrines  with  which  he  deals.  The 
saints  sometimes  spoke  and  wrote  in  ecstasy  when  upheavals 
from  the  subconscious  supplied  the  driving  power  and  content 
of  their  messages ;  and  sometimes  they  wrote  in  calm  delibera- 
tion employing  their  ordinary  conscious  faculties.  In  either 
event  the  saint  reflected  the  spirit  of  the  time;  or  rather,  of 
course,  he  interpreted  it,  bringing  out  the  best  that  was  in  it,  in 
some  measure  rising  above  it,  but  not  altogether  escaping  its 
limitations.  And  he  was  revered  as  a  saint  because  of  the  moral 
and  religious  value  of  his  message  as  appraised  by  the  critical 
intelligence  of  his  own  and  subsequent  generations. 

In  no  age  has  alleged  inspiration  been  received  merely  as 
such ;  it  has  always  been  compared  with  authoritative  standards. 
In  the  history  of  Christianity,  there  have  been  periods  of  high 
mystical  enthusiasm  when  the  restraint  upon  the  prophets  was 
comparatively  slight.  Such  was  the  case  with  the  early  church ; 
and  such  has  been  the  case  with  numerous  mystical  movements 
that  have  subsequently  risen  from  time  to  time.  But  in  every 


300  MYSTICISM 

such  instance  standards  soon  had  to  be  recognized ;  either  some 
basis  of  authority  and  evaluation  was  found,  or  else  the  move- 
ment collapsed  because  of  its  increasing  extravagances.  A 
writer  (32)  so  friendly  to  mysticism  as  Professor  Rufus  M. 
Jones  apparently  recognizes  this  fact,  though  he  (as  the  author 
thinks,  unwarrantably)  regrets  it;  so  enthusiastic  a  champion 
of  mysticism  as  Miss  Underhill  (33)  says:  "In  this,  as  in  all 
the  other  and  lesser  arts  which  have  been  developed  by  the  race, 
education  consists  largely  in  a  humble  willingness  to  submit  to 
the  discipline,  and  profit  by  the  lessons  of  the  past  . 
here  as  elsewhere  man  cannot  safely  divorce  his  personal  history 
from  that  of  the  race.  The  best  and  truest  experience  does  not 
come  to  the  eccentric  and  individual  pilgrim  whose  intuitions  are 
his  only  law ;  but  rather  to  him  who  submits  personal  intuition 
to  the  guidance  afforded  by  the  general  history  of  the  mystic 
type." 

VII — When  Are  Mystical  States  Normal? 

Into  the  difficult  question  whether  and  when  mystical  states 
should  be  classified  as  normal  from  a  medical  standpoint,  a 
layman  is  not  competent  to  enter.  It  will  only  be  possible 
here  to  suggest  the  following  as  a  simple  working  criterion — 
psychiatrists,  of  course,  have  better  and  more  technical  tests : — 
As  a  result  of  his  mystical  experience,  is  the  'person  in  better 
or  in  worse  health,  physically  and  mentally?  There  surely  can 
be  no  doubt  that  the  pious  devotion  of  ordinary  earnest  Chris- 
tian and  Jewish  men  and  women,  characterized  above  as  the 
"milder  mysticism,"  is  beneficial  both  mentally  and  physically, 
and  is  thoroughly  sane  and  normal.  Every  practising  physician, 
surely,  would  welcome  and  encourage  it  among  any  of  his 
patients  thus  disposed.  In  the  cases  of  the  more  pronounced 
types  of  mysticism,  such  as  those  of  the  "great  mystics,"  the 
application  of  this  criterion  would  probably  sometimes  furnish 
an  affirmative  answer;  but  in  very  many  cases,  if  not  the 
majority,  it  would  certainly  be  in  the  negative.  Few,  if  any, 
medical  men  would  encourage  any  one,  who  might  ask  their 
advice,  to  cultivate  ecstacies,  visions,  glossolalia,  and  stigma- 
tisation;  and  in  taking  an  unfavorable  attitude  toward  the 
cultivation  of  these  extraordinary  phenomena,  the  physicians 
have  many  of  the  saints  on  their  side,  34. 

From  a  moral  and  religious  standpoint  a  similar  criterion 
is  available.  Whatever  mystical  experiences  tend  to  strengthen 


NORMALITY  301 

the  character  of  the  person,  and  to  render  him  more  successful 
in  realizing  for  himself  and  for  others  the  ends  of  life  recognized 
by  the  best  thought  of  his  age  are  normal.  Whatever  mystical 
experiences  tend  in  the  opposite  direction  are  abnormal.  Or, 
if  closer  approximation  to  the  definition  of  religion  set  forth 
in  this  book  is  desired,  the  criterion  might  be  stated :  Whatever 
mystical  experiences  tend  to  promote  the  conservation  of 
socially  recognized  values  are  normal;  whatever  mystical 
experiences  tend  to  hinder  the  conservation  of  socially  recog- 
nized values  are  abnormal. 

Applying  these  criteria,  the  milder  type  of  mysticism  is 
certainly  both  religiously  and  morally  desirable.  Our  age 
needs  more  men  and  women  who  pray,  and  who  lead  lives  in 
which  the  presence  of  God  manifests  itself  in  acts  of  piety  and 
love.  The  moral  values  of  personal  righteousness,  equity,  and 
charity,  need  to  be  cultivated  through  the  mystical  process  of 
projecting  them  into  an  Alter,  and  then,  through  intimate 
communion  with  this  Alter,  attended  by  the  sense  of  His 
presence,  making  them  integral  constituents  of  human  lives. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  more  recently  socially  recognized  values, 
— equality  of  opportunity,  including  more  widely  diffused 
educational  privileges  as  well  as  economic  justice,  the  rights  of 
women  and  children,  willingness  on  the  part  of  both  capitalists 
and  workmen  to  confer  and  to  seek  to  gain  each  other's  point 
of  view.  In  a  word,  more  of  that  humility  and  charity  that 
Christianity  and  Judaism  have  always  inculcated,  ought  first 
to  be  freshly  applied  to  the  problems  of  our  age,  and  then 
mystically  projected  into  the  Alter  of  twentieth  century 
worship,  and  in  consequence  of  such  worship  to  become  dynamic 
in  the  lives  of  the  people  of  our  generation. 

Does  our  age  need  mystics  of  the  more  pronounced  type? 
This  is  less  certain.  Antonio  Fogazzaro  in  II  Santo  has 
attempted  to  portray  a  saint  similar  to  those  of  old,  living 
and  operating  under  modern  conditions.  To  one  reader,  at 
least,  the  career  of  such  a  saint  seems  an  anachronism.  Beauti- 
ful as  are  the  lives  of  some  of  the  more  mystical  saints,  like 
Francis  of  Assissi  and  Catherine  of  Siena,  they  would  be  out  of 
place  in  a  twentieth  century  setting.  The  socially  recognized 
values  of  our  age  could  not  be  conserved  through  saints  like 
them.  Yet,  as  it  seems  to  the  author,  the  America  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  was  not  without  its  mystical  saints, — such  in- 
clude every  one  who,  led  by  the  Alter  of  his  prayers,  "practised 


302  MYSTICISM 

in  an  eminent  and  heroic  degree  those  virtues  which  occasion 
demanded,  according  to  his  condition  in  life,  rank  and  circum- 
stances" to  mention  the  qualifications  for  the  canonisation  of 
a  saint  in  the  language  of  Benedict  XIV,  35.  Two  such  men, 
surely,  were  Abraham  Lincoln  and  Phillips  Brooks, — an 
unorthodox  layman  and  a  liberal  clergyman.  And  there  were 
many  others.  And,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  there  are  those  who  are 
performing  the  functions  of  mystical  sainthood  in  our  country 
to-day.  However,  they  are  not  ecstatics,  but  calm  and  earnest 
men  and  women  who  are  walking,  as  they  privately  believe 
but  usually  do  not  publicly  proclaim,  as  they  are  led  by  the 
God  of  their  prayers,  whose  presence  sustains  and  upholds 
them. 

While,  therefore,  mysticism  of  the  more  extreme  types,  such 
as  were  common  during  the  Middle  Ages  and  perhaps  as  late 
as  the  beginning  of  the  Enlightenment  period,  would  probably 
be  neither  normal  nor  desirable  to-day,  it  does  riot  follow  that 
many  of  the  great  mystics  were  not  normal.  St.  Francis  of 
Assissi  and  the  order  which  he  established  did  much  to  purify 
and  ennoble  an  age  needing  the  spiritual  reformation  which  they 
brought  to  it.  Saint  Catherine  of  Siena  worked  marvels  in 
purifying  her  city,  and  much  of  Italy  besides,  and  in  bringing 
back  great  ecclesiastics — and  even  the  papacy  itself  then  sunk 
to  a  low  ebb, — to  Christian  ideals  that  had  been  forgotten. 
While  their  times  are  not  our  times,  and  their  ideals  not  wholly 
ours,  it  is  hard  to  see  how  any  fair  minded  student  of  history 
can  fail  to  credit  great  good  to  the  consecrated  devotion  to 
God  (as  they  understood  Him)  which  was  the  fruit  of  the 
mysticism  of  Ignatius  Loyola  and  his  first  Jesuit  followers,  of 
George  Fox  and  the  early  Quakers,  and  of  John  Bunyan  and 
those  whom  his  books  have  influenced, — to  speak  of  no  others. 
Whether  the  work  of  Saint  Teresa  and  Saint  John  of  the 
Cross  can  be  equally  commended,  let  the  reader  judge  for 
himself.  William  James  may  be  unduly  severe  when  he  says 
of  Teresa,  that  "in  the  main  her  idea  of  religion  seems  to  have 
been  that  of  an  endless  amatory  flirtation — if  one  may  say  so 
without  irreverence — between  the  devotee  and  the  deity;  and 
apart  from  helping  younger  nuns  to  go  in  this  direction  by 
the  inspiration  of  her  example  and  instruction,  there  is 
absolutely  no  human  use  in  her,"  and  he  may  be  unduly  harsh 
when  he  refers  to  John  as  "a  Spanish  mystic  who  flourished — 
or  rather  who  existed,  'for  there  was  little  that  suggested 


TRUTH  303 

flourishing  about  him — in  the  sixteenth  century,"  36.  Yet  the 
reader  may  question  from  what  he  can  recall  of  the  conditions 
of  Spain  in  the  latter  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  when  signs 
of  decadence  were  already  appearing,  whether  the  spiritual 
service  which  that  country  most  needed  from  its  gifted  mystical 
children  was  the  multiplication  of  convents  of  barefooted  men 
and  women  practising  the  austerities  of  the  "unmitigated" 
Carmelite  rule.  James  is  also  unqualified  in  his  condemnation 
of  Saint  Louis  of  Gonzaga,  the  fruits  of  whose  saintship  he  finds 
to  be  pitifully  petty,  while  those  in  the  life  of  the  Blessed 
Margaret  Mary  Alacoque  were  "little  else  but  sufferings  and 
prayers  and  absences  of  mind  and  swoons  and  ecstasies."  Yet, 
if  the  former  has  become  "the  patron  saint  of  all  young  people," 
and  the  latter's  vision  of  the  Sacred  Heart  did  much  to  bring 
into  official  recognition  a  form  of  devotion  that  has  been  more 
helpful  to  Roman  Catholics  than  any  other  that  has  been 
introduced  since  the  Eucharist  itself,  there  must  have  been 
something  inspiring  in  the  lives  of  these  last  two  saints  as 
well,  37. 

VIII — Mysticism  and  Truth 

Mystical  experiences  cannot  claim  exemption  from  the  same 
tests  as  other  experiences.  Does  the  deliverance  of  a  mystic 
concord  with  what  other  competent  observers  have  experienced 
or  can  experience?  Is  it  rational  and  coherent  in  itself?  Is  ^ 
it  harmonious  with  what  is  most  certain  in  human  knowledge?  J 
If  it  agrees  with  such  tests  as  these,  it  is  probably  either  true, 
or  symbolical  of  truth.  The  fact  that  a  conclusion  has  been 
arrived  at  in  ecstasy,  or  is  pointed  out  in  a  vision,  or  comes 
as  a  supposed  inspiration,  does  not  make  it  either  less  or  more 
probable  than  if  it  had  been  reached  through  more  usual 
channels.  In  any  case  it  is  the  deliverance  of  a  human  mind, 
and  must  be  tested  by  the  ordinary  canons  of  common  sense, 
science,  and  logic. 

Like  other   forms   of  religious   experience,  mystical   states 
are  chiefly  of  value,  not  in  the  discovery  of  new  truths,  but 
in  engendering  euthusiastic  devotion  and  consecration  to  values  ""N 
already  recognized.      In  this   respect  mysticism  has  been  of   — ' 
inestimable  value  to  religion.     "Where  there  is  no  vision  the 
people  perish."     Where  there  is  no  mysticism,  religion  decays 
and  stratifies  in  dead  legalism,  formalism,  and  dogmatism.     But 
the  milder  form  of  mysticism  with  which  this  chapter  began  is 


304  MYSTICISM 

the  best,  and  probably  the  only  form  that  any  one  who  is  ever 
likely  to  read  this  book  should,  in  the  author's  opinion  at  least, 
attempt  to  cultivate,  38. 

The  relation  of  mystical  experience  to  God  hardly  needs 
elaboration  after  what  has  already  been  said  regarding  the 
relation  of  religious  awakening  and  prayer  to  God  in  the  two 
chapters  immediately  preceding.  The  two  possibilities,  if  one 
believes  in  the  existence  of  God,  are  those  of  an  external  God 
and  of  an  immanent  God.  Whoever  believes,  on  philosophical 
grounds,  that  there  is  a  God,  will  readily  accept,  as  in  some 
sense  coming  from  Him,  all  those  mystical  experiences,  and 
those  alone,  which  can  be  regarded  as  normal  in  the  sense  that 
they  actually  conserve  socially  recognized  moral  values.  He 
will  be  particularly  disposed  to  believe  in  the  divine  inspiration 
of  the  Bible,  since  it  has  for  many  centuries  and  in  many  lands 
been  a  means  by  which  men  have  gained  religious  experiences  in 
which  their  characters  have  been  transformed  and  enriched. 

REFERENCES. 

*EVELYN  UNDERIIILL,  Mysticism*.     The  Mystic  Way. 

*JAMES  BISSETT  PRATT,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  Chapters  XVI-XX. 
•WILLIAM  JAMES,  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  Lectures  XI-XVII. 
*JAMES     BAIITON     CUTTEN,    Psychological    Phenomena     of    Christianity, 
Chapters  III-XI;  XXIV. 

*EDWARD  S.  AMES,  Psychology  of  Religimis  Experience,  Chapter  XVII. 
*E.  BOUTROUX,  "The  Psychology  of  Mysticism"  in  International  Journal 
of  Ethics,  Vol.  XVIII. 

*GEORGE  A.  COE,  Psychology  of  Religion,  Chapter  XVI. 
*HEXHI  JOLY,  Psychology  of  the  Saints  (trans.) 
*ST.  AUGUSTINE  OF  HIPPO,  Confessions.     City  of  God. 
*TIIOMAS  A  KEMPIS,  Imitation  of  Christ. 

The  History  and  Life  of  the  Reverend  John  Tauler  (trans,  by  Susanna 
Winkworth). 

ST.  JULIAN  OF  NORWICH,  Revelations  of  Divine  Love  (edited  by  Grace 
Warrack). 

81.  IGNATIUS  LOYOLA,  Spiritual  Exercises.  (Trans,  and  notes  by  Joseph 
Rickaby,  S.  J.) 

*ST.  TERESA  OF  JESUS,  Life.    Way  of  Perfection.   Interior  Castle.   History 
of  the  Foundations. 

ST.  JOHN  OF  THE  CROSS,  Ascent  of  Mount  Carmel. 
GEORGE  Fox,  Journal. 
*JOHN  BUNYAN,  Pilgrim's  Progress. 
JOHN  WESLEY,  Journal. 

JAMES  H.  LEUBA,  "Tendences  fundamentales  de  mystiques  chre'tiens"  in 
Revue  philosophique,  LIV,  pp.  1-36. 

H.  DELACROIX,  fitudes  d'histoire  et  de  psychologic  du  mysticisme. 
F.  VON  HUGEL,  The  Mystical  Element  in  Religion.     Eternal  Life. 
Articles  on   "Mysticism,"   "Prayer,"   "Orison,"   "Ecstasy,"   "Asceticism," 
"Inspiration,"  "Visions,"  etc.,  in  Hastings'  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and 
Ethics;  The  Catholic  Encyclopaedia;  The  Jewish  Cyclopaedia,  etc. 


PART  III 
RELIGION  AND  REALITY 

CHAPTER    XVIII 

MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

I — Introductory 

WE  have  in  this  Part  to  face  the  question,  Is  Religion  true? 
In  Part  I,  we  saw  that  man  has,  continuously  from  primitive 
times,  sought  to  conserve  his  socially  recognized  values  through 
actions  that  he  believed  would  evoke  the  aid  of  a  supernatural 
agency.  The  agency  became  more  refined  and  spiritual  in  the 
course  of  historical  evolution  until  it  has  finally  become  the 
God  of  present-day  Judaism  and  Christianity.  In  Part  II  we 
have  just  seen  that  people  to-day  in  processes  of  religious 
growth  and  of  conversion,  of  prayer  and  of  mystical  experience, 
believe  that  they  receive  aid  and  strength  from  this  Agency. 
We  have  now  to  consider  whether  the  weight  of  philosophical 
evidence  tends  to  confirm  the  belief  that  such  a  supernatural 
Agency  actually  exists  in  the  world,  or  whether  the  philosopher 
should  regard  this  belief  as  a  subjective  delusion.  This  question 
belongs  to  Meta/physics,  the  branch  of  philosophy  that 
endeavors  to  ascertain  the  ultimate  nature  of  man  and  ofi 
reality.  While  other  chapters  of  metaphysics  bear  upon  the 
question  we  are  now  to  consider,  it  has  p'enerallv  been  recog- 
nized since  the  time  of  Immanuel  Kant  (fl 804),  who  thoroughly 
criticized  the  older  arguments  for  God,  that  the  strongest 
reasoning  in  favor  of  the  existence  of  God  is  to  be  found  in 
arguments  based  upon  the  acceptance  of  teleology. 

The  purpose  of  this  chapter  will  be  to  consider  whether  or 
not  the  world  as  a  whole  is  teleological,  and  whether  the  evolu- 
tion of  the  earth,  of  life  upon  the  earth,  and  of  man,  is 
teleological.  If  the  preponderance  of  available  evidence  (for  we 
shall  by  no  means  expect  to  find  proof)  is  favorable  to  teleology, 
we  shall  have  ground  in  subsequent  chapters,  for  affirming  that 

305 


306  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

religion  in  some  sense  is  probably  true,  and  not  a  subjective 
delusion. 

Teleology  (coming  from  telos,  purpose  or  end),  as  here 
employed,  is  the  theory  that  the  universe  as  a  whole  is  purpose- 
ful. It  has  a  value,  a  meaning.  In  some  sense  it  is  organic 
and  individual.  (The  terms  "universe"  and  "world  as  a 
\vhole"  will  be  used  interchangeably,  and  always  in  this  sense. 
"Earth"  will  be  employed  for  the  particular  planet  which  we 
inhabit,  never  "world.")  According  to  the  teleologist,  all 
organisms  (including  both  plants  and  animals)  are  wholes, 
composed  of  parts  that  are  dependent  upon  one  another,  and 
that  co-operate  for  the  good  of  the  organism.  In  some  sense 
the  entire  universe  is  organic;  it  is  a  whole  composed  of  parts 
that  work  together  for  a  common  good.  Any  particular  human 
being  is  an  individual,  who  plans  his  course  of  action  with 
reference  to  ends.  In  some  profounder  sense  the  whole  universe 
is,  or  is  directed  by,  an  Individual.  Such,  in  general,  is  what 
is  meant  by  teleology  in  contemporary  metaphysics.  The 
teleologist  may  believe  that  the  universal  plan  is  eternally 
complete  and  that  it  is  now  being  gradually  worked  out  in 
time;  or  he  may  believe  that  the  purposes  of  the  universe,  like 
those  of  human  beings,  are  subject  to  continual  growth  and 
modification. 

To  believe  in  a  purposeful  world  logically  leads  to  belief  in 
a  world  Purposer,  a  Being  who  plans  and  carries  out  the  world 
purposes.  So  the  author  believes,  and  he  supposes  that  most 
philosophical  teleologists  believe,  in  the  existence  of  a  God.  To 
be  sure,  such  a  conclusion  necessitates  some  philosophical  bold- 
ness, and  carries  us  outside  of  the  field  of  scientific  information 
entirely.  But  if  the  universe  is  purposeful  and  individual,  it  is 
most  natural  to  suppose  that  it  is  subject  to  the  guidance  of 
a  directing  Mind.  All  of  the  higher  organisms  have  minds. 
If  the  universe  is  in  some  deep  sense  organic,  it  must  be 
superior  to  all  limited  and  finite  organisms,  and  it,  too,  must 
have  a  Mind.  If  purposes  are  being  carried  out  in  the  world 
order — purposes  on  a  vaster  and  grander  scale  than  ours — 
they  must  be  the  purposes  of  a  divine  Mind.  If  the  universe 
is,  or  is  directed  by,  an  Individual,  that  Individual  must  be 
God.  Teleologists  may  believe  in  an  immanent  God,  who  is  the 
world  or  the  soul  of  the  world,  and  that  both  God  and  the 
world  are  eternal ;  or  they  may  simply  affirm  the  presence  of  a 
progressive  principle  inherent  in  the  world  order ;  or  they  may 


INTRODUCTORY  307 

believe  that  God  is  the  transcendent  Creator  of  all  things,  and 
is  eternal  while  other  things  are  not.  The  last  of  these  positions 
inclines  to  theism,  while  the  first  and  second  are  pantheistic 
in  tendency;  but,  as  already  has  been  remarked  (in  Part  II) 
and  as  we  shall  see  more  clearly  in  the  following  chapter, 
theism  and  pantheism,  as  held  by  philosophers  at  the  present 
time,  are  not  so  sharply  antagonistic  positions  as  in  the  past. 

Acceptance  of  the  teleological  view  of  the  world  would 
accordingly,  in  the  author's  opinion  at  least,  lead  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  in  the  evolution  of  religions  man  has  gradually 
become  more  conscious  and  appreciative  of  a  Being  that  truly 
exists.  The  evolution  from  animism  to  the  higher  spiritual 
religions  has  been  the  development  of  man's  understanding  of 
the  ultimate  ground  of  his  own  existence ;  or,  as  idealists  some- 
times express  it,  this  evolution  is  the  progress  by  which  God 
comes  to  self-consciousness  in  the  human  race.  In  like  manner, 
continuous  religious  growth,  spontaneous  awakenings,  conver- 
sions, prayer  and  mystical  experiences  are  mental  states  and 
processes  through  which  individual  men  become  aware  of  the 
divine  Presence;  or,  stated  idealistically,  processes  through 
which  God  comes  to  self-consciousness  in  the  mind  of  an  indi- 
vidual human  being,  1. 

The  metaphysical  theory  opposed  to  Teleology  is  called 
Mechanism.  This  is  the  doctrine  that  the  world,  taken  as  a 
whole,  is  not  purposeful;  it  is  governed  by  unchanging  natural 
laws  which  could  be  described  and  formulated  with  mathematical 
precision  if  we  were  in  possession  of  all  the  necessary  data. 
Certain  of  these  laws  have  already  been  thus  formulated,  such 
as  the  laws  of  gravitation  and  the  conservation  of  energy.  The 
extreme  form  of  the  doctrine  is  well  expressed  in  the  words  of 
La  Place  (f!827),  the  French  astronomer  who  advanced  the 
nebular  hypothesis, — "We  ought  then  to  regard  the  present 
state  of  the  universe  as  the  effect  of  its  antecedent  state,  and 
as  the  cause  of  the  state  that  is  to  follow.  An  intelligence 
who  for  a  single  instant  should  be  acquainted  with  all  the  forces 
by  which  nature  is  animated,  and  with  the  several  positions  of 
the  beings  composing  it,  if  further  his  intellect  were  vast  enough 
to  submit  these  data  to  analysis,  would  be  able  to  include  in 
one  and  the  same  formula  the  movements  of  the  largest  bodies 
in  the  Universe,  and  those  of  the  lightest  atom.  Nothing  would 
be  uncertain  for  him;  the  future  as  well  as  the  past  would  be 
present  to  his  eyes,"  2.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  astronomers 


308  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

have  formulated  the  motions  of  the  various  planets,  and  they 
calculate  their  positions  at  remote  periods  in  the  past  and  the 
future  with  mathematical  precision.  To  the  extreme  mechanist 
the  analogy  suggests  that  everything  that  occurs  is  subject  to 
the  laws  of  matter  and  motion,  which  are  rigid  and  unchanging, 
devoid  of  plan  or  purpose,  meaning  or  individuality,  in  the 
teleological  sense. 

The  mechanical  theory  has  several  arguments  in  its  favor. 
The  most  exact  natural  sciences  are  mechanical.  The  laws  of 
physics  can  be  stated  in  mathematical  formulae,  and  can  be 
verified  by  experiment.  The  principles  of  chemistry  admit  of 
precise  description  and  experimental  verification.  Biological 
principles  are  at  present  more  indefinite,  but  many  of  the 
phenomena  of  life  can  already  be  reduced  to  physical  and 
chemical  statements.  It  is  argued,  that  when  biology  is  more 
developed,  all  vital  phenomena  will  be  thus  reducible.  Human 
conduct,  whether  that  of  individuals  as  studied  by  psychology, 
or  of  groups  as  studied  by  sociology,  can  all  be  regarded,  it 
is  maintained,  as  the  reactions  to  external  stimuli  of  an  animal 
with  an  unusually  complex  brain  and  nervous  system.  Much 
human  behavior  can  already  be  described  in  terms  of  nervous 
reflexes.  Ultimately,  it  is  urged  by  the  philosophical 
mechanist,  all  conduct  will  be  found  to  consist  of  nervous 
reflexes,  which  can  be  explained  in  terms  of  physics  and 
chemistry.  Thomas  Hobbes  (f!679),  one  of  the  greatest 
materialistic  mechanists  in  modern  times,  said,  "Whatever 
exists  in  matter,  whatever  changes  is  motion."  Most  mechanists 
of  the  present  time,  however,  unlike  Hobbes  are  not  materialists. 
They  usually  admit  that  consciousness  is  not  a  form  of  physical 
matter  or  energy;  they  say  that  it  is  merely  a  by-product  of 
nervous  action,  or  an  external  relation  that  sometimes  exists 
between  nerve  cells,  but  which  occupies  no  important  place  in 
an  account  of  the  world  as  a  whole. 

Scientists  who  are  mechanists  urge  that  a  mechanical  expla- 
nation of  phenomena  is  always  clear-cut,  and  definite,  capable 
of  verification  by  experiment.  The  student  in  physics  and 
chemistry  can  verify  for  himself  in  the  laboratory  the  principles 
laid  down  in  his  text  books.  To  an  increasing  extent  many 
principles  in  the  various  branches  of  biology  are  not  only 
matters  of  precise  description  and  experiment,  but  are  made 
practical  use  of  everywhere  that  agriculture  is  carried  on 
scientifically.  As  for  human  behavior,  it  can  at  least  be  sub- 


INTRODUCTORY  309 

jected  to  statistical  investigation,  and  economic  and  psy- 
chological processes  can  often  be  formulated  in  quanti- 
tative statements  and  plotted  in  graphs.  On  the  other  hand, 
teleological  statements  are  usually  vague  and  incapable  of 
confirmation  by  exact  experiments. 

In  reply  to  the  mechanists,  scientists  who  use  teleological 
methods,  including  the  advocates  of  vitalism  (one  teleological 
standpoint  in  biology)  and  those  who  adhere  to  idealistic 
standpoints  in  history,  sociology,  psychology  and  ethics, 
maintain  that  the  mechanical  point  of  view  utterly  fails  to 
explain  many  established  facts,  while  teleological  theories, 
though  confessedly  less  precise,  have  the  advantage  of  at  least 
recognizing  all  the  actual  facts  and  of  furnishing  a  partially 
satisfactory  account  of  them. 

A  philosopher  who  is  a  mechanist  does  not  think  it  necessary 
that  every  science  at  the  present  time  should  be  mechanical 
in  all  its  methods.  To  be  sure  such  a  philosopher  believes  that 
the  world  as  a  whole  is  fundamentally  mechanical  and  that  all 
the  sciences  will  ultimately  become  completely  mechanical  in 
the  course  of  their  further  development.  But  he  is  often  willing 
to  concede  that,  for  the  time  being,  in  some  of  the  less 
developed  sciences  it  may  be  justifiable,  in  a  provisional  way, 
to  use  teleological  modes  of  explanation.  The  physiologist,  for 
instance,  may  occasionally  find  it  convenient,  at  least  for  peda- 
gogical reasons,  to  speak  of  the  various  bodily  organs  as 
having  "purposes"  which  they  endeavor  to  perform.  Such 
manner  of  speech  the  mechanistic  philosopher  regards  as  purely 
provisional  and  figurative;  the  bodily  functions  are  really 
mechanical  processes  subject  to  the  laws  of  physics  and 
chemistry,  just  as  much  as  is  anything  that  goes  on  in  the 
inorganic  world. 

A  philosopher  who  is  a  teleologist  similarly  is  willing  to 
concede  that  many  sciences,  or  perhaps  all  of  them  even,  ought 
to  employ  mechanical  methods  on  account  of  their  greater 
simplicity,  accuracy,  and  practical  usefulness.  This  is  a 
question  that  the  scientist  must  decide  for  himself.  In  each 
science  it  is  necessary  to  consider  the  world  from  a  single 
point  of  view ;  the  investigator  is  free  to  make  whatever 
assumption  he  finds  needful,  to  select  whatever  facts  he  chooses 
to  regard  as  lying  within  the  domain  of  his  science,  and  to 
describe  these  facts  on  the  basis  of  the  assumptions  that  he 
has  made.  The  physicist,  for  instance,  without  seriously 


310  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

attempting  to  explain  the  nature  of  space,  time,  matter,  motion, 
and  energy,  simply  takes  them  for  granted,  and  upon  the  basis 
of  these  assumptions,  he  has  been  successful  in  describing  a 
large  variety  of  phenomena  in  a  purely  mechanical  way,  3.  The 
biologist  and  the  psychologist  may,  if  they  prefer,  follow  the 
example  of  the  physicist,  and  make  what  assumptions  they 
choose  as  to  life  and  consciousness,  and  on  the  basis  of  these 
assumptions  they  may  go  on  to  describe  whatever  phenomena 
they  find  themselves  able  to  interpret  along  mechanistic  lines. 
Or  the  biologist  and  the  psychologist,  may,  if  they  wish  to 
make  their  sciences  more  comprehensive  in  scope,  instead  of 
ignoring  facts  which  cannot  be  described  mechanistically, 
introduce  teleological  methods  of  interpretation.  Thus, 
although  the  ultimate  explanation  of  the  world  as  a  whole  is 
teleological,  it  may  be  more  practicable  for  many  scientists 
to  use  mechanical  explanations  within  the  restricted  fields  of 
their  sciences.  In  this  connection,  some  teleologists  call  atten- 
tion to  the  fact  that  the  very  word  "mechanical"  etymologically 
related  as  it  is  to  "machine"  implies  a  tool  manufactured  for  a 
practical  purpose.  The  mechanical  methods  of  explanation 
used  in  the  sciences  are  simply  artificial  devices — tools  or 
machines  as  it  were — invented  by  man  to  carry  out  his  purposes. 
In  other  words,  mechanism  itself,  in  the  view  of  some  philosoph- 
ical teleologists,  is  a  teleological  device. 

It  will  be  evident  to  the  reader  that  the  issue  between 
mechanism  and  teleology  is  an  unsettled  question.  If  all  the 
evidence  were  upon  either  side,  or,  if  some  crucial  experiment 
or  theoretical  demonstration  had  been  found  that  could  conclu- 
sively dispose  of  the  matter,  there  would  be  no  difference  of 
opinion  on  the  subject  to-day.  To  be  sure,  there  are 
philosophical  arguments,  based  upon  idealism  (4)  that  are  con- 
vincing to  the  author,  and  to  very  many,  perhaps  the  majority 
of  philosophical  thinkers  to-day.  But  space  does  not  admit 
of  an  adequate  presentation  of  these  arguments  in  this  book, 
and,  besides,  quite  a  number  of  philosophical  students  jtftday 
4g_  not  accept  idealism^  Without  assuming  idealism  or  any 
other  particular  philosophical  theory  to  begin  with,  let  us  try 
to  weigh  the  general  drift  of  evidence  in  the  various  sciences, 
and  to  ascertain  whether  the  net  balance  of  probability  inclines 
toward  mechanism  or  toward  teleology.  In  life  we  continually 
have  to  act  upon  probabilities.  Very  little  of  our  knowledge 
about  anything  (outside  of  mathematics  and  formal  logic  at 


INTRODUCTORY  311 

least)  is  absolutely  certain.  If  it  is  fairly  clear  that  the 
general  weight  of  evidence  falls  either  in  the  direction  of 
mechanism  or  of  teleology,  we  ought  to  form  our  conclusions 
accordingly. 

The  great  outstanding  fact  in  the  sciences  to-day  is  that 
the  world  as  we  know  it  is  the  product  of  evolution.  Whether 
adhering  to  the  nebular  hypothesis  of  La  Place  or  to  the 
planetesimal  hypothesis  of  Chamberlain  and  Moulton,  or  to 
neither,  astronomers  are  agreed  that  our  solar  system  has 
evolved  in  accordance  with  physical  and  chemical  laws.  After 
the  crust  constituting  the  surface  of  the  earth  had  passed 
through  various  geological  phases,  living  beings  appeared 
upon  it,  whose  bodies  were  composed  of  protoplasm, — a 
development  from  inorganic  matter  which  alone  previously  had 
existed.  Biologists  trace  the  descent  of  the  various  forms  of 
plant  and  animal  life  now  in  existence  from  this  original  proto- 
plasm. Comparative  psychologists  show  with  reasonable 
probability  at  what  stages  of  animal  development  the  various 
phases  of  consciousness  made  their  appearance.  The,  main 
facts  in  human  social  evolution — the  earliest  forms  of  human 
society,  the  beginnings  of  language,  industry,  religion  and 
morality,  as  well  as  the  course  of  the  further  development  of 
each  are  now  approximately  established. 

Suppose  a  scholarly  visitor  from  another  planet,  say  Mars, 
were  told  the  history  of  the  early  development  of  our  Earth,  of 
its  later  evolution  together  with  that  of  life  upon  it,  of  the 
appearance  of  man  and  of  his  history  down  to  the  present  time, 
and  were  thoughtfully  to  review  the  evidence,  would  he  conclude 
that  the  mechanists  or  the  teleologists  are  right?  Would  he 
decide  that  this  whole  course  of  evolution  has  been  without 
conscious  design  or  purpose  (other  than  has  been  effected  by 
man  himself)  in  accordance  with  natural  laws?  Or  would  he 
agree  with  Tennyson's  Locksley  Hall  poems  that  "through  the 
ages  one  increasing  purpose  runs,"  and  that 

"Many  an  Aeon  moulded  earth  before  her  highest,  man,  was  born, 
Many  an  Aeon,  too,  may  pass  when  earth  is  manless  and  forlorn, 
Earth  so  huge,  and  yet  so  bounded — pools  of  salt,  and  plots  of  land — 
Shallow  skin  of  green  and  azure — chains  of  mountain,  grains  of  sand! 
Only  That  which  made  us,  meant  us  to  be  mightier  by  and  by, 
Set  the  sphere  of  all  the  boundless  Heavens  within  the  human  eye, 
Sent  the  shadow  of  Himself,  the  boundless,  thro'  the  human  soul; 
Boundless  inward,  in  the  atom,  boundless  outward,  in  the  Whole." 


312  INORGANIC  EVOLUTION 

II — Inorganic  Evolution 

Well,  let  us  review  the  evidence.  Before  the  appearance  of 
life  upon  the  earth,  when  only  inorganic  matter  existed  on  this 
planet,  it  would  at  first  appear  that  only  mechanical  processes 
could  have  been  operative.  The  sciences  that_deal  with 
inorganic  matter — astronomy,  physics,  chemistry,  and  geology 
— are  all  strictly  mechanical  in  their  viewpoints.  They  find  no 
occasion  for  the  employment  of  teleological  methods  or  theories. 
But  can  these  sciences  successfully  account  for  all  the  facts, 
that  then  were  in  existence?  Professor  Lawrence  J.  Henderson. 
a  biological  chemist  who  believes  that  mechanistic  methods 
should  be  employed  in  science,  answers  this  question  in  the 
negative.  Before  there  was  life  upon  the  earth's  surface,  there 
existed  in  the  earth  and  its  atmosphere,  in  large  quantities. 
the  very  elements  (oxygen,  hydrogen  and  carbon)  and  com- 
pounds (water  and  carbonic  acid)  that  were  best  fitted  to  favor 
the  appearance  of  life.  Organisms  to  survive  must  exchange 
matter  and  energy  with  their  environment.  "There  are  no 
other  compounds  which  share  more  than  a  small  part  of  the 
qualities  of  fitness  (for  life)  of  water  and  carbonic  acid;  no 
other  elements  which  share  those  of  carbon,  hydrogen  and 
oxygen,"  5.  Nor  is  there  any  known  explanation  why  these 
particular  elements  and  compounds  happily  were  present, 
rather  than  others.  "There  is,  in  truth,  not  one  chance  in 
countless  millions  of  millions  that  the  many  unique  properties 
of  carbon,  hydrogen  and  oxygen,  and  especially  of  their  stable 
compounds,  water  and  carbonic  acid,  which  chiefly  make  up  the 
atmosphere  of  a  new  planet,  should  simultaneously  occur  in 
the  three  elements  otherwise  than  through  the  operation  of  a 
natural  law  which  somehow  connects  them  together.  There 
is  no  greater  probability  that  these  unique  properties  should 
be  without  due  cause  uniquely  favorable  to  the  organic 
mechanism.  These  are  no  mere  accidents ;  an  explanation  is  to 
seek.  It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  no  explanation  is  at 
hand,"  6.  This  consideration,  together  with  others,  such  as 
the  inability  of  mechanistic  science  to  account  for  ultimates 
like  matter,  energy,  and  life,  leads  Professor  Henderson  to 
believe  in  an  "order  of  nature"  that  must  be  teleological.  "It 
is  evident  that  a  perfect  mechanistic  description  of  a  house  may 
be  conceived.  Within  the  world  of  physical  science  the  whole 
process  is  logically  complete  without  consideration  of  the 


INORGANIC  EVOLUTION  313 

architect's  design  and  purpose."  Yet,  of  course,  the  architect's 
design  and  purpose  were  determining  factors  in  the  building 
of  the  house.  It  is  at  least  conceivable  that  a  tendency  similar 
to  that  of  the  architect's  design  may  be  working  steadily 
through  the  whole  process  of  cosmic  evolution,  7.  Nature  must 
always  be  regarded  from  two  complementary  points  of  view, 
both  of  which  are  true, — mechanism  and  teleology,  8. 

Professor  Henderson  has  argued  that  combinations  of  chem- 
ical elements  and  compounds  existed,  prior  to  the  emergence  of 
life,  which  were  admirably  fitted  for  life,  that,  out  of  the  millions 
of  various  combinations  that  were  mathematically  possible,  this 
one  was  the  most  favorable.  Such  a  happy  combination  of 
circumstances  can  not  be  merely  a  matter  of  chance.  There 
must  be  a  reason  for  it.  There  is  no  known  or  conceivable 
mechanical  reason.  Therefore  we  most  assume  teleology. 
Teleology,  however,  for  Professor  Henderson,  is  not  a  scientific 
explanation ;  it  is  extra-scientific,  and,  like  the  architect's  plan- 
ning of  the  house,  it  does  not  belong  in  the  account  of  things 
that  a  physical  science  furnishes.  None  the  less,  teleology  is 
a  fundamental  characteristic  of  the  order  of  nature,  9. 

It  may  be  urged,  however,  against  such  an  argument  as  this, 
that  perhaps  the  existence  of  the  combination  of  factors  most 
favorable  to  life,  prior  to  its  appearance,  is  not  pecuilar  to 
the  history  of  the  Earth.  Possibly  this  combination  may 
exist  everywhere  in  the  universe.  Well,  suppose  it  does?  If 
this  could  be  shown  to  be  true,  it  would  further  strengthen 
the  evidence  for  teleolgy;  for,  on  this  assumption,  everywhere 
in  the  universe,  when  planets  cool  and  crusts  form  on  them, 
the  combination  of  elements  most  favorable  for  the  emergence 
of  life  is  present.  This  would  be  an  argument  for  universal 
teleology.  But  some  one  may  offer  another  objection.  He  may 
say,  "For  life,  as  we  know  it  upon  the  Earth,  carbon,  hydrogen 
and  oxygen,  water  and  carbonic  acid,  in  the  proportions  in 
which  they  exist  here,  are  the  most  favorable  combination. 
But,  in  planets  with  different  constitutions,  may  there  not  be 
life  of  wholly  different  sorts  from  any  that  we  know?  Given 
such  a  planet  as  the  Earth,  with  a  certain  chemical  combination 
a  correlative  kind  of  life  A  evolves ;  given  some  other  planet 
with  the  chemical  combination  b,  a  correlative  type  of  life  B 
evolves ;  and  in  yet  another  planet  the  chemical  combination  c 
gives  rise  to  a  third  form  of  life,  C.  Everywhere  the  form  of 
life  appears  for  which  the  already  existing  chemical  combin- 


MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

ation  is  most  favorable,  a-A,  b-B,  c-C,  and  so  on.  Never  does 
B  appear  in  connection  with  a  or  C  in  connection  with  b.  Would 
not  this  be  universal  mechanism?"  The  teleologist  could  rejoin: 
"Hardly.  Such  a  condition  would  be  one  of  universal  teleology ! 
Such  a  universe  would  be  indeed  the  best  of  possible  worlds! 
Everywhere  matter  would  give  rise  to  the  form,  of  life  most 
fitted  for  existence  in  conjunction  with  it."  Unluckily  for  the 
interests  of  teleology,  however,  this  supposition  which  can  be  so 
readily  turned  into  an  argument  for  teleology,  appears  improb- 
able to  scientists.  Physiological  chemists  are  unable  to  con- 
ceive of  any  metabolism  for  which  a  different  chemical  combina- 
tion would  be  nearly  so  favorable  as  that  which  we  know  upon 
the  Earth. 

The  objection  seems  to  be  stated  in  a  somewhat  different  form 
by  Professor  Durant  Drake,  who  says,  "instead  of  marvelling, 
for  example,  that  the  earth's  atmosphere  should  have  just  the 
right  proportion  of  oxygen,  carbonic  acid  gas,  etc.,  to  maintain 
the  organic  life  which  exists  on  its  surface,  we  can  point  out 
that  organic  life  has  come  to  be  of  such  a  nature  as  to  utilize 
precisely  such  proportions  of  gases  because  it  has  crept  into 
existence  under  these  conditions.  On  another  planet,  where 
much  more  CO2  exists,  living  forms,  if  any  have  there  come  into 
existence,  will  be  of  such  a  nature  as  to  thrive  on  a  greater 
proportion  of  that  gas."  When  Professor  Drake  here  speaks 
of  the  possibility  that  "life  has  crept  into  existence"  in  other 
planets  under  other  conditions,  his  metaphor  is  ambiguous.  Does 
he  mean  that  life  evolves  out  of  the  matter  already  in  existence 
on  the  planet?  If  so,  he  has  been  answered  in  the  preceding 
paragraph.  But  his  language  seems  to  suggest  that  "life" 
is  something  different  from  matter,  which  "creeps  into  exis- 
tence" wherever  it  finds  a  favorable  environment.  If  this  is  what 
he  means,  "life"  is  something  different  from  matter,  and  uses 
matter  for  its  purposes  when  it  can.  Wherever  in  the  universe 
it  can  succeed  in  doing  this,  life,  in  this  case  a  teleological 
principle,  becomes  dominant. 

Such  a  theory  of  life  has  been  brilliantly  championed  by 
Professor  Henri  Bergson,  one  of  the  most  renowned  philoso- 
phers of  our  time,  10.  He  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  all 
life,  plant  and  animal  alike,  depends  upon  the  expenditure,  in 
the  various  vital  processes,  of  energy  that  has  previously  been 
stored  up  in  digestion.  Animals  either  directly  or  indirectly 
derive  their  sustenance  from  plants.  The  latter  gather  in  the 


INORGANIC  EVOLUTION  315 

energy  that  makes  their  own  life  and  that  of  animals  possible, 
through  the  chlorophyllian  function,  a  process  which  consists 
in  using  solar  energy  to  fix  the  carbon  of  carbonic  acid.  The 
life  process  thus  suggests  the  analogy  of  a  mill  run  by  water 
power,  which  involves  the  expenditure  of  energy  that  has  previ- 
ously been  extracted  from  the  fall  of  water  in  a  stream.  All 
that  is  essential  for  the  life  process  to  go  on  in  any  solar  system 
is  for  solar  energy  to  be  stored.  Instead  of  carbon  other  ele- 
ments may  serve  this  purpose  in  other  solar  systems.  The 
result,  of  course,  would  be  living  forms  without  any  analogy 
to  those  we  know,  with  different  anatomy  and  physiology; 
indeed,  it  is  even  conceivable  that  life  may  be  present  in  an 
environment  of  matter  not  yet  solidified,  as  in  a  nebula.  All  that 
is  necessary  is  to  assume  that  energy  descends  the  incline  indi- 
cated by  Carnot's  law  of  entropy  (the  second  law  of  thermo- 
dynamics) and  that  some  way  of  storing  up  this  energy  can  be 
found ;  in  other  words,  life  is  probably  in  existence  "in  all  the 
worlds  suspended  from  all  the  stars."  Bergson,  however,  as- 
sumes, in  order  to  make  this  possible,  that  everywhere  there  is  an 
impetus  of  life  (Velan  vital)  which  is  not  material  at  all,  and 
that  this  impetus  actively  selects  and  stores  the  energy  that 
makes  the  life  of  organisms  possible.  Whereas  Professor  Berg- 
son  conceives  matter  as  mechanical,  he  places  in  the  universe  in 
opposition  to  matter  the  vital  impulse,  which  is  psychical,  and 
teleological,  in  the  sense  in  which  the  latter  term  is  employed  in 
this  book,  11.  The  evolution  of  life  and  the  production  of  the 
various  species  is  due  to  the  selective  activity  of  this  impulse. 
The  latter  is  "essentially  a  current  sent  through  matter,  draw- 
ing from  it  what  it  can."  On  the  earth  it  has  been  most  suc- 
cessful in  producing  man,  having  been  blocked  in  the  other 
directions  in  which  it  has  moved,  12. 

We  may  therefore  conclude  that  mechanism  has  been  suc- 
cessful in  its  account  of  cosmic  evolution  at  the  expense  of  ig- 
noring some  of  the  factors  in  operation.  From  the  stand- 
point of  scientific  problems  mechanistic  scientists  may  have 
been  right  in  ignoring  these  factors.  The  fact  remains  that 
they  have  ignored  them.  Whoever  desires  to  give  a  philo- 
sophical account  of  the  evolution  of  the  world  as  a  whole  can 
ignore  no  factor  that  has  been  operative  in  this  evolution.  He, 
therefore,  is  forced  to  choose  between  recognizing  a  teleologi- 
cal principle  in  the  order  of  nature,  as  Professor  Henderson 
does,  or  going  still  further,  and  assuming  with  Professor  Berg- 


316  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

son  a  psychical  element  in  evolution  that  operates  in  interac- 
tion with  matter,  and  achieves  its  purposes  in  the  evolution  of 
life.  Either  alternative  gives  a  place  to  teleology.  So  far  as 
the  author  is  able  to  see  there  is  no  escape  between  these  two 
alternatives,  in  a  philosophical  system  that  accepts  any  scien- 
tific account  of  cosmic  evolution  as  descriptive  of  ultimate 
Reality. 

To  be  sure,  there  are  certain  philosophers  who  deny  that 
the  cosmic  evolution  of  the  mechanistic  scientists  is  in  any 
sense  a  true  description  of  ultimate  Reality.  Such  writers  do 
not  usually  question  the  fact  that  there  has  been  cosmic  evo- 
lution but  they  point  out  that  the  mechanical  sciences  are  built 
upon  the  acceptance  of  conceptions  of  matter,  motion,  energy, 
space,  time,  and  causation  that  are  full  of  logical  contradic- 
ions  and  inconsistencies.  They  argue  that  these  conceptions 
cannot  be  literally  true;  they  are  arbitrary  devices  of  thought 
useful  only  for  certain  practical  purposes,  and  they  leave  out 
more  than  they  include.  An  account  of  evolution  uncritically 
built  upon  such  conceptions  is  therefore  quite  misleading. 
Philosophers  who  assume  this  attitude  often — the  author  be- 
lieves usually — either  profess  to  be  agnostics  (as  Herbert 
Spencer)  but  really  hold  views  that  logically  lead  to  belief  in 
teleology  and  God  (as  John  Fiske  showed  to  be  true  of  Spen- 
cer's philosophy)  or  else  are  avowed  teleologists  (as  Josiah 
Royce,  Hugo  Miinsterberg,  Professor  James  Ward,  Professor 
W.  R.  Sorley,  Professor  Emile  Boutroux,  and  Professor  Mary 
W.  Calkins.) 

Ill — Are  Organisms  Mechanistic  or  Teleological? 

The  next  great  step  in  the  evolution  of  the  earth  that  con- 
cerns the  philosophical  student  is  the  appearance  of  life.  Can 
living  beings  be  understood  mechanistically  or  must  they  be 
interpreted  teleologically  ?  Here,  again,  we  must  keep  clearly 
in  mind  what  the  issue  really  is,  so  far  as  it  concerns  a  philo- 
sophical interpretation  of  the  world.  The  mechanistic  philos- 
opher maintains  that  mechanism  can  be  relied  upon,  at  least  with 
the  further  development  of  science,  to  give  a  full  account  of  the 
nature  of  the  organism  in  all  its  aspects ;  teleology  is  superflu- 
ous and  untrue.  The  teleological  philosopher,  on  the  con- 
trary, maintains  that  life  has  a  teleological  side  which  is  really 
more  fundamental  than  the  mechanistic  side.  Whether,  how- 
ever, teleology  should  be  employed  as  a  working  conception  in 


ORGANISMS  317 

the  biological  laboratory,  or  whether  biologists  should  use  mech- 
anistic methods  exclusively,  because  of  their  greater  accuracy 
and  definiteness  in  experimental  observations,  is  a  question  for 
the  biologists  themselves  to  decide ;  the  teleological  philosopher 
simply  maintains  that  the  biologist  must  choose  between  giving 
a  partial  account  of  life  on  a  mechanistic  basis  and  a  fuller 
account  that  includes  its  teleological  features. 

There  are  numerous  arguments  in  favor  of  a  mechanistic 
conception  of  life.  In  the  first  place,  organisms  obey  the  same 
physical  laws,  and  they  are  composed  of  the  same  chemical  ele- 
ments that  are  found  in  inorganic  nature.  To  be  sure,  there 
are  chemical  combinations  that  are  found  only  in  living  organ- 
isms, and  persist  only  during  life ;  but  so  vigorous  an  anti- 
mechanist  as  Dr.  J.  S.  Haldane  admits  that  "there  is  no  reason 
for  believing  that  any  ultimate  difficulty  will  be  experienced 
in  artificially  forming  any  of  the  chemical  substances  which 
have  been  discovered,  or  are  ever  likely  to  be  discovered,  with- 
in the  body,"  13.  "Another  fundamental  fact  is  that  the  whole 
of  the  energy  which  is  liberated  in  the  body,  whether  as  heat, 
mechanical  work,  or  in  other  forms,  can  be  traced  to  sources 
outside  the  body,"  14.  Mechanists  urge  that  in  all  biological 
investigations  either  structure  or  activity  are  being  investigat- 
ed, and  that  in  the  organism  no  structure  or  activity  can  be 
found  that  is  not  physical  and  chemical.  The  history  of  mod- 
ern physiology  is  claimed  by  mechanists  to  show  uninterrupted 
progress  in  the  successful  application  of  physical  and  chemical 
methods  to  physiological  problems;  a  vast  amount  of  physical 
and  chemical  knowledge  regarding  the  nature  of  life  has  been 
accumulated,  15. 

The  organism,  however,  as  the  teleologist  points  out,  possess- 
es a  variety  of  unique  features.  Each  organ  is  dependent  on 
the  others,  and  is  what  it  is  because  they  are  what  they. are; 
the  parts  of  a  living  being,  whether  plant  or  animal,  belong 
in  a  system  with  one  another,  such  as  we  do  not  find  in  the 
inorganic  world.  The  mechanist,  in  reply  to  this  argument, 
is  likely  to  remark,  "Machines  possess  this  whole  and  part  re- 
lation. Take  a  watch,  for  instance.  Each  wheel  and  spring 
belongs  in  a  system  with  the  others,  has  its  particular  function 
to  perform,  and  finds  its  significance  in  the  meaning  of  the 
watch  as  a  whole,  an  instrument  to  register  time.  Organisms, 
therefore,  are  simply  machines.  To  be  sure,  they  are  unusually 
complicated  and  efficient  machines ;  but  machines  they  are,  none 


S18  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

the  less,"  16.  The  teleologist  here  rejoins,  "True,  to  some  ex- 
tent organisms  are  like  machines.  But  this  is  because  machines 
are,  in  part,  teleological.  There  are  always  two  ways  of  look- 
ing at  a  machine.  You  can  examine  each  part,  lever,  wheel,  axle 
or  spring,  and  see  how  its  action  is  caused  by  the  action  of 
some  other  part  with  which  it  is  connected.  Such  an  explana- 
tion is  a  causal  or  mechanistic  explanation,  and  by  means  of 
it  you  can  show  the  relation  of  each  part  of  a  machine  to  every 
other  one.  But  you  can  also  look  at  a  machine  teleologically. 
You  can  ask,  what  is  it  for?  What  purpose  does  the  machine 
perform?  And,  in  the  light  of  your  knowledge  of  the  purpose 
of  the  machine  as  a  whole,  you  can  find  out  what  each  spring, 
wheel  and  other  part  contributes  to  this  purpose.  Both  ex- 
planations are  true ;  and,  since  they  both  are  true,  neither  ex- 
cludes the  other.  But  the  teleological  explanation  in  a  sense 
is  the  more  fundamental,  since  the  machine  was  manufactured 
to  carry  out  the  purposes  of  human  beings,  and  would  never 
have  been  brought  into  existence  at  all  except  for  these  pur- 
poses. Every  machine  is  the  embodiment  in  material  form  of  a 
purpose  which  it  expresses ;  and,  if  it  is  a  successful  machine, 
which  it  fulfils.  If  organisms  really  were  machines,  we  should 
have  to  assume,  with  the  old-fashioned  teleologists,  such  as 
Paley,  that  they  are  all  immediately  created  by  a  divine  Mind 
to  carry  out  His  purposes,  just  as  watches  are  manufactured 
by  the  watch  maker  to  carry  out  his  purposes." 

However,  the  teleologist  of  the  present  time  is  not  willing 
to  admit  that  organisms  are  entirely  like  machines.  He  points 
out  that  organisms  are  teleological  in  many  respects  in  which 
machines  are  not.  Ah  organism  automatically  exchanges  mat- 
ter and  energy  with  its  physical  environment ;  and,  in  the  case 
of  an  animal,  if  food  is  not  in  its  immediate  presence,  it  goes 
forth  in  search  of  it ;  so  that  a  prospective  future  outcome  de- 
termines its  present  action.  Only  in  case  of  organisms  does 
a  future  end  control  present  action ;  in  the  case  of  machines  the 
immediately  preceding  cause  completely  determines  the  follow- 
ing event.  Moreover,  if  the  animal  cannot  find  his  favorite 
food,  he  will  accept  a  substitute.  If  some  part  of  an  organ- 
ism is  not  too  severely  injured,  processes  of  repair  will  at  once 
set  in ;  and,  in  the  meantime,  other  parts  will  perform  the  func- 
tions of  the  injured  part.  In  the  human  brain,  highly  special- 
ized though  it  is,  the  extent  to  which  such  substitution  of  func- 
tions may  take  place  is  truly  marvelous.  Then,  too,  organisms 


ORGANISMS  319 

reproduce  themselves.  If  we  call  the  organism  an  engine,  it 
must  be  as  Professor  J.  A.  Thomson  has  remarked,  "a  self- 
stoking,  self -repairing,  self -preservative,  self-adjusting,  self- 
increasing,  self-reproducing  engine,"  17.  In  some  respects  lino- 
type machines  and  machines  used  for  the  manufacture  of 
other  machines,  have  been  instanced  by  mechanists,  but  such 
comparisons  are  so  far-fetched  as  scarcely  to  merit  discus- 
sion, 18. 

For  the  mechanist  to  contend  as  Professor  Loeb  does,  that 
all  these  functions  of  the  organism  involve  physical  and  chem- 
ical processes,  is  no  reply ;  many  philosophical  teleologists  are 
quite  willing  to  admit  this  contention.  Valuable  as  have  been 
the  researches  of  Professor  Loeb  and  his  school  in  discovering 
the  nature  of  these  processes,  and  much  as  they  possibly  may 
vindicate  the  claim  that  biologists  should  use  mechanistic 
methods  exclusively  on  the  ground  of  their  great  simplicity, 
practicability,  and  fruitfulness  in  new  discovery,  they  do  not 
affect  the  philosophical  aspects  of  the  case.  The  philosophical 
teleologist  can  afford  to  admit  that  from  one  point  of  view 
every  structure  and  function  in  the  organism  is  the  effect  of 
physical  and  chemical  causes ;  but  he  maintains  that  the  organ- 
ism also  has  its  purposes  which  it  carries  out  through  its  parts, 
and  that  these  parts  contribute  to  the  whole.  One  can  no  more 
refute  the  teleology  of  an  organism  by  showing  that  all  its 
structures  and  processes  are  physical  and  chemical,  than  he 
could  show  that  a  building  has  no  plan  or  purpose  because  all 
the  material  of  which  it  is  composed — bricks  and  mortar  and 
lumber  and  nails — consists  wholly  of  chemical  elements  subject 
to  physical  laws.  Even  the  behavior  of  the  lowliest  animal 
organisms,  such  as  the  amoeba,  stentor,  and  paramaecium, 
Avhich  Professor  Loeb  and  his  school  believed  could  be  described 
exclusively  in  mechanistic  terms  (such  as  tropisms)  Professor 
H.  S.  Jennings  has  found  to  involve  the  same  characteristics  as 
the  behavior  of  higher  animals.  The  amoeba,  similar  as  it  is 
in  appearance,  by  no  means  has  the  inertness  of  a  drop  of  water. 
In  its  behavior  may  be  distinguished  factors  comparable  to  the 
habits,  reflexes  and  automatic  activities  of  higher  organisms. 
It  seeks  food,  and  endeavors  to  escape  from  its  enemies,  includ- 
ing its  cannibal  fellow  amoebae.  "All  the  results  taken  together 
lead  to  the  conclusion  that  neither  the  usual  movements  nor  the 
reactions  of  Amoeba  have  as  yet  been  resolved  into  known  phy- 
sical factors.  There  is  the  same  unbridged  gap  between  the 


320  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

physical  effect  of  the  stimulus  and  the  reaction  of  the  organ- 
ism that  we  find  in  higher  animals,"  19. 

Nor  would  the  situation  be  different  if  Professor  Loeb  or  one 
of  his  disciples  were  to  succeed  some  time  in  manufacturing  an 
organism  out  of  chemical  substances.  This  possibility  is  per- 
haps not  wholly  inconceivable,  in  view  of  their  success  in  arti- 
ficially fertilizing  ova  by  chemical  and  mechanical  means.  Every 
animal  or  plant  consists  exclusively  of  physical  matter.  If  the 
scientist  can  succeed  in  bringing  together  the  right  combina- 
tions of  matter,  why  should  he  not  make  an  organism?  To  be 
sure,  this  organism  would  have  been  manufactured  by  a  human 
being,  for  a  purpose.  It  would  really  be  a  machine,  and,  like 
every  machine,  it  would  have  its  teleological  aspects ;  and  it 
would  excel  all  machines  now  in  existence  by  possessing  these 
characteristics  of  organisms  which  machines  now  do*  not  have. 
And  such  a  discovery  would  be  pretty  sure  to  throw  light  on 
the  way  in  which  organisms  developed  on  the  earth's  surface 
from  inorganic  matter,  20. 

But  if  we  knew  the  manner  in  which  life  has  evolved  from  in- 
organic matter, — or,  in  other  words,  the  manner  in  which  or- 
ganisms that  have  teleological  aspects  have  developed  from 
particles  of  matter  which,  taken  separate  from  the  world  as  a 
whole  are  devoid  of  teleological  aspects, — we  should  not  be 
forced  to  the  admission  that  organisms  are  not  teleological,  21. 
On  the  other  hand,  we  should  continue  to  claim  that  there  must 
have  been  some  sort  of  immanent  purposiveness  in  the  environ- 
ment as  a  whole,  which  brought  together  into  organisms  the 
particles  of  matter  that,  in  the  form  of  organisms,  manifest 
teleology.  When  there  as  yet  was  no  life  on  the  earth,  there 
was  a  teleological  process  going  on  preparatory  to  life,  as  the 
happy  combination  of  elements  and  compounds  on  the  earth's 
surface  shows.  This  teleology  went,  not  merely  so  far  as  to 
effect  the  right  combinations  of  carbon,  oxygen  and  hydrogen 
in  water  and  carbonic  acid,  but  also  to  effect  the  further  happy 
combinations  of  minuter  bits  of  matter  into  the  first  plant  and 
animal  organisms.  Indeed,  the  teleologist  may  claim  that  the 
successful  manufacture  of  organisms  in  biological  laboratories, 
— and  still  more,  a  convincing  explanation  of  how  the  first  or- 
ganisms on  the  earth's  surface  developed  from  the  material 
elements  then  in  existence, — will  considerably  strengthen  the 
arguments  for  teleology. 

We  have  seen  that  it  is  quite  possible  for  the  philosophical 


BIOLOGICAL  EVOLUTION  321 

teleologist  to  accept  mechanism  as  a  satisfactory  working  hypo- 
thesis in  biology,  and  al;  the  same  time  to  maintain  that  life, 
when  considered  in  all  its  aspects,  must  be  regarded  as  having 
a  teleological  side.  Dr.  John  Scott  Haldane,  one  of  the  few 
physiologists  who  understands  the  philosophical  aspects  of  the 
problem,  goes  further  than  this,  and  wishes  to  introduce  the 
philosophical  conception  of  the  whole  and  part  relation  into 
biology  itself.  He  argues  that  the  mechanistic  theories  do  not 
work  well,  even  for  biological  purposes,  that  they  totally  fail 
to  give  satisfactory  explanations  of  such  organic  processes  as 
growth,  reproduction,  the  secretory  action  of  the  kidneys  and 
breathing.  On  the  contrary,  he  believes  that  the  whole  and 
part  conception  explains  these  processes  satisfactorily ;  and  he 
credits  to  the  acceptance  of  this  conception  important  discov- 
eries which  have  been  made  in  his  laboratory  at  Oxford  regard- 
ing the  process  of  breathing,  22. 

IV — Biological  Evolution 

Mechanists  have  often  affirmed  that,  marvelous  as  are  the 
adaptiveness  of  the  organism  and  its  whole  and  part  relations, 
these  can,  since  the  rise  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  be  shown 
to  have  originated  in  a  purely  mechanical  way.  The  process 
of  evolution,  in  other  words,  is  claimed  by  them  to  be  purely 
mechanistic.  Teleologists  of  the  present  time  are  willing  to 
admit  that,  since  Charles  Darwin  in  1859  conclusively  proved 
that  all  present  forms  of  plant  and  animal  life  have  had  a  com- 
mon ancestry,  the  old-fashioned  conception  of  teleology  based 
on  the  doctrine  of  immediate  creation  is  impossible.  But  mod- 
ern teleology  is  as  much  evolutionary  as  is  modern  mechanism. 
Let  us  briefly  examine  the  more  important  modern  theories  of 
evolution  which  are  claimed  by  mechanists  to  account  for  the 
development  of  organisms  into  their  present  forms  in  a  manner 
that  excludes  teleology. 

First,  let  us  consider  the  evolutionary  doctrine  of  Darwin 
himself.  This  may  briefly  be  summed  up  under  five  points, — 
heredity,  variation,  struggle  for  existence,  natural  selection  and 
sexual  selection.  In  each  generation  of  plants  and  animals,  the 
offspring  in  the  main  inherit  the  characteristics  of  their  par- 
ents,— such  is  the  law  of  heredity.  However,  they  are  never 
completely  like  their  parents,  each  individual  varies  slightly 
both  from  parents  and  from  others  of  the  same  generation ;  this 
is  the  law  of  variation.  The  rate  of  reproduction  in  each  gen- 


322 

eration  is  far  too  rapid  to  make  it  possible  for  all  of  the  off- 
spring to  survive,  reach  maturity,  and  leave  offspring  in  turn ; 
on  the  contrary,  the  majority  of  eggs  and  young  plants  and 
animals  perish  in  the  three-fold  struggle  for  existence  that  they 
are  compelled  to  wage  with  the  adverse  conditions  of  climate 
and  other  factors  in  the  physical  environment,  with  other  spec- 
ies of  life,  and  with  other  members  of  their  own  species.  Such 
is  the  struggle  for  existence.  In  consequence,  in  each  genera- 
tion there  will  survive  only  those  particular  individuals  of  each 
species  whose  variations  are  most  favorable  in  the  struggle  for 
existence,  whether  affording  greater  strength  of  muscle  or 
sharper  teeth  and  claws,  for  combat,  or  greater  fleetness  of 
foot  for  flight,  or  more  protective  coloring  for  concealment, 
or  what  not.  Most  of  the  offspring  in  the  next  generation  will 
inherit  the  favorable  variations  of  their  parents,  while  some 
of  them  will  be  so  fortunate  as  to  possess  these  characteristics 
in  a  further  developed  form,  and  so  will  survive  in  the  struggle 
for  existence.  Thus  natural  selection  has  gone  on  in  the  past; 
by  this  wholly  mechanical  process,  as  the  mechanists  claim  it 
to  be,  a  selection  has  slowly  taken  place  among  plants  and  ani- 
mals and  new  species  in  time  have  originated.  This  is  just  as 
truly  a  selection  as  that  artificially  effected  by  stock  breeders ; 
but,  unlike  the  latter,  there  is  no  conscious  purposiveness  about 
it  at  all;  it  is  as  blindly  mechanical  a  process  as  the  manner 
in  which  drops  of  water  fall  in  accordance  with  the  law  of  grav- 
itation. Sexual  selection  is  an  hypothesis  advanced  by  Darwin 
to  explain  the  brilliant  plumage  and  songs  of  male  birds,  and 
ornamental  features  of  other  male  animals  which  are  apparent- 
ly of  no  value  in  the  struggle  for  survival,  on  the  ground  that 
the  males  most  favored  with  these  characteristics  won  out  in 
competition  with  the  others  for  the  preference  of  the  females. 
When  we  examine  these  five  features  of  Darwinism  a  little 
more  closely  we  perceive  that  they  are  by  no  means  decisive  for 
mechanism.  In  the  first  place  the  whole  theory  assumes  the 
struggle  for  existence.  It  assumes,  in  other  words,  that  plants 
and  animals  endeavor  to  survive.  To  be  sure,  this  endeavor  is 
not  conscious  endeavor,  in  the  human  sense.  Nevertheless,  it 
is  an  endeavor  to  accomplish  a  purpose.  Mere  particles  of 
inorganic  matter  could  not  struggle  with  each  other  and  with 
the  environment  for  existence.  Plants  and  animals,  on  the  con- 
trary, do  not  passively  follow  the  line  of  least  resistance;  they 
adapt  themselves  to  the  environment,  and  the  parts  of  the  plant 


BIOLOGICAL  EVOLUTION  323 

or  animal  organism  adjust  themselves  to  one  another.  While 
Darwinism  is  superficially  mechanistic  in  its  account  of  natural 
selection,  it  assumes  a  struggle  for  existence;  and  for  an  organ- 
ism to  struggle  implies  that  it  has  a  teleological  side,  23.  Far 
from  being  through  and  through  a  mechanistic  theory,  Dar- 
winism logically  rests  on  teleological  foundations. 

The  Darwinian  theory  contains  many  other  defects  and  dif- 
ficulties. One  of  the  most  serious  of  these  is  its  failure  in  any 
way  to  account  for  the  origin  of  variations.  Why  do  variations 
occur?  Some  mechanists  try  to  alleviate  this  difficulty  by  call- 
ing attention  to  the  Mcndelian  laws,  according  to  which  many 
variations  in  each  generation  appear  in  different  individuals  in 
accordance  with  the  mathematical  laws  of  choice  and  chance. 
But  unless  mechanists  are  really  willing  to  maintain  that  some 
things  in  the  universe  actually  occur  by  pure  chance,  they  must 
admit  that  there  are  causes  for  variations,  and  that  variations 
simply  appear  to  us  to  be  due  to  chance  because  we  do  not  know 
what  the  causes  are.  To  attribute  anything  to  chance,  is,  in 
other  words,  a  confession  of  ignorance.  For  the  mechanist, 
surely,  as  for  other  scientists,  every  event  must  be  assumed 
to  have  a  cause.  The  advance  of  science  in  modern  times  has 
always  been  based  on  this  assumption.  Another  difficulty  is, 
that  with  the  exception  of  the  relatively  few  cases  that  could 
be  brought  under  sexual  selection,  Darwinism  is  only  able  to 
explain  useful  variations.  On  the  contrary,  many  variations 
have  appeared  and  long  survived  in  organic  evolution  that  were 
not  useful  at  all.  Again,  some  biologists  maintain  the  doctrine 
of  orthogenesis,  i.  e.,  that  variations  occur  only  in  a  few  definite 
directions  and  continue  in  these  directions  ;  since  such  variations 
cannot  be  due  to  chance,  they  might  be  thought  to  suggest 
teleology. 

Still  another  objection  is,  that  if  variations  appear  in 
only  a  few  individuals  in  a  generation,  the  individuals  posses- 
sing them  would  probably  mate  with  individuals  that  did  not 
possess  them,  and  the  variations  would  be  unlikely  to  be  trans- 
mitted to  succeeding  generations ;  and  if  the  same  variations 
appeared  in  more  than  a  few  individuals  at  one  time,  it  could 
not  be  due  to  chance,  there  would  be  a  reason  for  its  appear- 
ance. A  further  difficulty  is  raised  by  the  consideration  that 
the  struggle  for  existence  in  very  many  if  not  in  the  majority 
of  cases,  is  over  before  the  offspring  is  mature  enough  to  profit 
by  favorable  variations.  Weismann,  a  zealous  defender  of 


324.  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

Darwinism,  has  met  this  difficulty  by  assuming  that  the  strug- 
gle for  existence  goes  on  in  the  embryo  between  various  bio- 
phors  and  determinants.  This  assumption  implies  that  the  em- 
bryo, simple  as  it  appears  to  the  microscope,  is  in  reality  ex- 
ceedingly complex.  There  must  be  something  in  the  embryo 
to  correspond  to  every  difference  in  the  adult  organism  that  is 
the  result  of  heredity.  While  this  hypothesis  is  not  impos- 
sible, and,  indeed  has  been  found  useful  in  some  work  in  plant 
and  animal  breeding,  it  makes  heredity  extremely  complicated. 

De  Vries  and  his  followers  have  suggested  a  modification  of 
the  Darwinian  theory.  Instead  of  new  species  developing  from 
old  ones  by  a  slow  and  gradual  accumulation  of  relatively  slight 
variations,  De  Vries  believes  that  the  change  from  one  species 
to  another,  when  environmental  and  internal  conditions  are  fav- 
orable, takes  place  in  a  single  generation.  Such  a  variation  he 
calls  a  mutation.  The  cause  of  mutations,  however,  is  left 
without  fundamental  explanation,  and  so  this  theory  does  not 
escape  the  charge  of  attributing  mutations  to  chance. 

For  these  reasons,  together  with  numerous  others,  Darwinism 
cannot  be  claimed  to  have  accounted  in  a  mechanistic  way  for 
the  teleological  features  that  organisms  possess,  21. 

While  probably  the  majority  of  biologists  are  to  be  found 
among  the  adherents  of  Darwinism  in  its  various  modified 
forms,  a  considerable  minority  have  been  led  to  the  acceptance 
of  other  positions.  The  oldest  of  these  is  that  coming  down 
from  Lamarck  (tl829).  This  theory  has  the  advantage  of 
offering  explanations  for  the  cause  of  variations.  Variations 
are  due  to  modifications  in  organisms  caused  either  by  the  di- 
rect action  of  the  environment,  or  by  the  activities  of  the  or- 
ganisms themselves  in  their  use  and  disuse  of  parts,  the  effects 
being  transmitted  by  heredity  to  following  generations.  Log- 
ical as  this  theory  appears,  it  has  been  largely  discredited  by 
the  inability  of  its  adherents  to  find  conclusive  proof  of  the 
transmission  of  such  modifications  (called  "acquired  charac- 
ters") in  the  manner  assumed.  While  in  some  respects  Lam- 
arckism,  as  held  today,  is  mechanistic,  in  others,  such  as  the 
attribution  of  modifications  to  the  activities  of  organisms 
themselves,  it  contains  teleological  elements.  It  seems  too,  like 
Darwinism,  to  imply  a  struggle  for  existence,  on  the  part  of 
organisms.  On  the  whole,  Lamarckism  cannot  be  said  to  have 
accounted  for  the  origin  of  organisms  on  purely  mechanistic 
liries. 


BIOLOGICAL  EVOLUTION  325 

Neither  Darwinism  nor  Lamarckism  is  admittedly  teleolog- 
ical  as  a  scientific  method.  The  teleology  in  each  rests  merely 
in  the  assumptions  on  which  each  is  based,  as  these  are  dis- 
closed by  philosophical  analysis.  There  are  a  considerable 
number  of  biologists,  however,  who  frankly  wish  to  introduce 
teleological  methods  of  explanation  into  the  science  of  biology 
itself.  Chief  among  these  are  the  Vitalists.  The  most  famous 
of  the  vitalists  is  Professor  Hans  Driesch,  25,  who  assumes  as 
the  basis  of  all  life,  in  addition  to  its  physical  and  chemical 
elements,  a  non-energetic  immaterial  force  that  controls  and 
directs  the  development  of  the  organism,  which,  reviving  an 
expression  of  Aristotle's,  he  calls  its  "entelechy."  He  has  ac- 
cumulated a  considerable  mass  of  experimental  evidence  in 
favor  of  his  theory.  Pauly,  France,  and  other  French  biolog- 
ists find  an  inner  vital  force  of  a  psychical  character  which 
directs  the  activities  of  organisms  and  their  evolution  in  a  tele- 
ological manner. 

The  objection  to  vitalistic  theories,  from  a  scientific  stand- 
point, is  the  vagueness  and  indefiniteness  of  the  vital  principle 
assumed ;  such  conceptions  as  'entelechy,'  'vital  force,'  and  'vital 
impetus,'  it  is  urged  by  mechanists,  cannot  be  tested  experi- 
mentally, and  so  they  are  not  good  tools  for  investigation.  Al- 
though Darwinism  and  other  mechanistic  theories  have  not  yet 
accounted  for  all  the  facts  of  life,  they  are  at  least  clear  and 
definite,  and  capable  of  experimental  proof  or  disproof.  How- 
ever, it  should  be  remembered  that  radically  new  theories  that 
had  appeared  vague  and  indefinite  at  the  outset  have  some  times, 
in  the  later  history  of  science,  proved  to  be  right,  and  with 
further  development  have  become  scientifically  workable ;  while 
theories  that  had  appeared  clear  cut  and  definite,  but  which 
were  so  because  they  left  out  some  of  the  facts,  have  later  been 
repudiated.  The  Copernican  system  of  astronomy  at  first  was 
vague  and  indefinite ;  the  Ptolemaic  system  at  that  time  was  far 
more  clear  cut,  definite,  and  scientifically  workable,  though  it 
had  become  extremely  complicated,  and  had  to  ignore  .some 
facts.  In  like  manner,  the  doctrine  of  evolution  appeared  vis- 
ionary to  most  biologists  of  the  generation  of  Lamarck ;  care- 
ful, hard-headed  scientists  then  believed  in  the  fixity  and  immut- 
ability of  species,  and  their  immediate  creation.  It  may  be 
that  vitalism,  like  heliocentricism  and  evolutionism,  will  some- 
time become  scientifically  workable,  and  will  overthrow  mech- 
anism, which  is  now  becoming  more  and  more  complicated,  and 


826  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

which,  as  we  have  seen,  has  to  ignore  some  aspects  of  the  organ- 
ism. The  burden  of  proof,  however,  is  on  the  side  of  vitalism ; 
and  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  is  the  exception  and  not  the 
rule  that  theories  that  began  by  being  vague  and  visionary 
have  proved  later  on  to  be  right. 

V — Psychology 

As  our  Martian  visitor  considers  the  history  of  the  evolution 
of  our  planet,  he  will  be  impressed  not  only  with  the  emergence 
of  living  beings  in  an  environment  of  inorganic  matter,  but 
also  with  the  development  among  these  living  beings  of  con- 
sciousness. Animals  not  only  adjust  themselves  in  more  ways 
to  the  changing  characteristics  of  their  environment  than  do 
plants,  but  higher  animals,  at  least,  seem  somehow  to  be  con- 
scious of  this  environment,  to  receive  sensations  due  to  exter- 
nal stimuli,  and  in  response  to  make  appropriate  reactions  for 
their  own  self  preservation  and  welfare.  Their  ability  to  do 
this  is  of  course  owing  to  the  fact  that  they  have  nervous  sys- 
tems* Mechanistic  psychologists  make  much  of  the  depend- 
ence of  consciousness  upon  the  brain  and  nervous  system ;  if 
parts  of  the  brain  or  nervous  system  are  injured  the  particular 
conscious  processes  dependent  upon  these  parts  are  affected ; 
consciousness  receives  no  information  from  the  outer  world  ex- 
cept through  nervous  action;  if  consciousness  could  initiate 
movements  at  all,  it  would  only  be  able  to  do  so  through  nerv- 
ous action.  They  therefore  urge  that  it  is  unlikely  that  con- 
sciousness initiates  movements  at  all.  Adjustments  to  external 
stimuli  are  effected  simply  through  the  action  of  the  central 
nervous  system  itself;  consciousness  not  being  physical  and  be- 
ing devoid  of  energy  in  the  physical  sense,  really  effects  no 
changes  in  the  molecules  of  the  brain  and  nervous  system. 

This  view  was  anticipated  by  Huxley  (1*1895)  who  said: 
"It  seems  to  me  that  in  men,  as  in  brutes,  there  is  no  proof  that 
any  state  of  consciousness  is  the  cause  of  change  in  the  motion 
of  the  matter  of  the  organism."  Consciousness  is  as  devoid 
of  influence  upon  the  movement  of  particles  in  the  brain,  as  is 
the  steam  whistle  which  accompanies  the  working  of  a  locomo- 
tive engine  upon  its  machinery.  "The  soul  stands  related  to 
the  body  as  the  bell  of  a  clock  to  the  works,  and  consciousness 
answers  to  the  sound  which  the  bell  gives  when  it  is  struck,  26. 
Certain  of  the  more  extremely  mechanistic  psychologists  even 
question  whether  such  a  thing  as  consciousness  exists  at  all,  27 ; 


PSYCHOLOGY  327 

at  any  rate,  to  be  thoroughly  objective  and  scientific,  they  say, 
psychology  must  merely  note  and  explain  in  terms  of  nervous 
action  the  behavior  of  animal  and  human  organisms  in  their 
physical  environment.  Psychology  is  thus  really  a  branch 
of  physiology,  differing  from  the  latter  chiefly  by  the  fact 
that  it  is  concerned  with  the  reactions  of  organisms  to  stimuli 
external  to  their  bodies  rather  than  with  reactions  due  to  in- 
ternal stimuli,  28. 

That  there  is  room  for  the  study  of  human  and  animal  be- 
havior in  terms  of  nervous  action  cannot  be  questioned,  nor 
that  this  has  already  been  of  great  service  in  our  understand- 
ing of  human  nature  and  of  our  relation  to  the  world  in  which 
we  live.  That  this  science  can  proceed  along  purely  mechan- 
istic lines  is,  however,  open  to  question :  if  organisms  reveal  the 
whole  and  part  relation,  the  struggle  for  existence,  and  inde- 
finite adaptability  to  varying  conditions,  the  science  of  be- 
havior cannot  well  ignore  the  fact  that  nervous  reflexes  are 
somewhat  teleological  in  their  behavior. 

Those  who  maintain  that  consciousness  is  a  merely  superflu- 
ous concomitant  of  nervous  action  are  perplexed  by  the  ques- 
tion, "If  this  be  true,  why  does  consciousness  exist  at  all?  If 
consciousness  performs  no  function  in  the  adjustment  of  the 
organism  to  its  environment,  how  explain  its  appearance  and 
its  evolution?"  Some  form  of  awareness  of  external  objects 
appears  very  low  in  the  animal  kingdom ;  from  these  crude  be- 
ginnings, parallel  to  the  increasing  complexity  of  the  nervous 
system  higher  forms  of  consciousness  make  their  appearance. 
Finally,  man  arises,  with  power  not  only  to  receive  sense  stim- 
ulations from  objects  about  him,  and  to  perceive  these  objects 
with  their  various  characteristics  of  size,  shape,  color,  odor, 
sound,  temperature  and  taste,  but  also  to  recall  these  objects 
in  memory,  to  construct  different  objects  in  imagination,  to 
compare  them  with  one  another,  giving  names  to  those  that  are 
similar,  and  classifying  them  in  concepts,  to  make  judgments 
about  their  nature,  to  make  inferences  regarding  their  future 
condition,  and  to  conclude  how  to  govern  his  own  conduct  ac- 
cordingly. It  would  certainly  appear  that  consciousness  must 
fill  some  function  in  the  economy  of  the  organism ;  whatever  its 
relation  to  the  nervous  system  may  be,  it  must  perform  an  es- 
sential part. 

If  it  be  admitted  that  consciousness  does  perform  some  es^ 
sential  part,  this  latter  may  be  variously  conceived.  Boldest 


328  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

of  all  hypotheses,  perhaps,  is  that  of  Professor  Henri  Bergson. 
He  has  shown  that  the  facts  of  aphasia  and  other  brain  diseases 
that  have  often  been  supposed  to  indicate  the  dependence  of 
consciousness  upon  the  nervous  system,  may,  in  full  recogni- 
tion of  all  the  known  facts,  be  interpreted  in  the  opposite  fash- 
ion. Far  from  being  their  product,  consciousness  is  the  creator 
of  the  brain  and  nervous  system,  29.  Scarcely  less  radical  is 
the  doctrine  of  Professor  William  McDougall,  that  the  soul 
exists  in  the  organism  in  comparative  independence  of  the  body, 
and  that  many  facts,  even  in  physiological  psychology,  such 
as  the  passage  of  nerve  currents  over  the  synapses  and  the 
co-ordination  of  the  two  eyes,  can  only  be  attributed  to  its 
assistance,  whereas  much  of  the  higher  thought  processes,  like 
memory,  imagination,  reasoning,  and  volition,  are  chiefly  due 
to  the  soul,  30.  Such  theories  as  these  advanced  by  Professor 
Bergson  and  Professor  McDougall  are  comparable  to  vitalistic 
theories  in  biology;  they  assume  that  a  non-physical  principle 
is  in  interaction  with  the  body,  and  they  maintain  that  this 
principle  must  be  introduced  into  scientific  explanations. 

Without  committing  themselves  to  the  position  that  the  mind 
or  soul  or  consciousness  is  an  independent  entity  of  some  sort 
in  interaction  with  brain  tissues,  the  "functional  psycholog- 
ists" maintain  that  consciousness  has  evolved  to  assist  in  the 
self-maintenance  of  the  organism,  and  that  the  various  con- 
scious processes  must  be  interpreted  from  this  standpoint,  31. 
The  most  logical  attempt  to  distinguish  the  mechanistic  and 
teleological  methods  in  psychology,  and  make  use  of  them  both, 
of  which  the  author  knows,  is  that  made  by  Hugo  Miinsterberg 
32,  who  believes  that  psychology  has  the  double  task  of  ex- 
plaining mental  states  causally,  with  references  to  the  states 
that  preceded  them  and  the  processes  going  on  in  the  nervous 
system,  and  of  endeavoring  to  understand  their  meaning  and 
purpose,  which  alone  have  value  and  significance.  Both  tasks 
are  valuable  and  necessary,  but  purposive  psychology  is  the 
profounder  of  the  two.  Indeed,  the  mental  processes  of  sen- 
sation, perception,  and  the  rest  are  merely  scientific  construc- 
tions into  which  psychologists  have  artificially  arranged  the 
facts  of  consciousness  for  purposes  of  calculation.  In  reality 
the  will  is  free,  and  not  subject  to  the  laws  of  causal  determin- 
ation which  are  its  creation.  Such  a  view  is  profoundly  tele- 
ological. The  same  is  true  of  Professor  Mary  W.  Calkins' 
"double  standpoint"  in  psychology,  which,  though  recognizing 


329 

a  place  for  a  psychology  with  the  standpoint  of  analysis,  makes 
this  subordinate  to  the  psychology  developed  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  self.  The  self  is  basic  for  the  understanding  of 
mental  life,  33. 

We  therefore  conclude  that  psychologists,  like  the  scientists 
that  study  physical  nature  in  its  inorganic  and  organic  forms, 
are  compelled  to  make  a  choice.  They  must  decide  between  a 
purely  mechanistic  treatment  that  will  leave  out  many  facts, 
but  will  afford  definiteness  and  precision  in  the  use  of  labora- 
tory methods,  and  a  treatment,  at  least  in  part  teleological, 
that  will  be  more  concrete  and  inclusive. 

Our  Martian  visitor  will  conclude  that  mechanism  is  every- 
where a  useful,  but  only  a  partial  explanation  of  the  evolution 
of  things  upon  the  Earth.  It  explains  many  facts  and  gives 
admirable  control  over  them.  But  only  a  teleological  account 
can  suggest  to  us  why  the  happy  combination  of  elements  most 
favorable  to  life  existed  before  there  was  life ;  why  organisms 
with  whole  and  part  organisations  appeared,  and  have  been  able, 
whether  through  natural  selection  or  in  some  other  way,  to  at- 
tain their  present  state  of  development ;  and  why  there  finally 
evolved  such  a  being  as  man,  with  his  memory  and  reason,  able 
to  govern  his  present  conduct  by  considerations  of  the  future, 
and,  through  agriculture  and  industry,  largely  to  modify  the 
conditions  of  his  environment,  so  as  better  to  satisfy  his 
needs.  Such  a  continuity  of  development  could  not  have  taken 
place  as  a  result  of  the  action  of  blind  and  mechanical  forces 
exclusively. 

VI — Teleology  and  Dysteleology 

If  our  Martian  visitor  needed  further  confirmation  of  the 
claim  that  there  has  been  a  teleological  factor  in  evolution,  he 
could  review  the  history  of  man  since  he  has  appeared  upon  the 
earth.  By  means  of  his  intelligence  man  has  progressed  con- 
stantly in  his  comprehension  of,  and  mastery  over  the  physical 
conditions  by  which  he  has  been  surrounded.  To  be  sure,  his 
civilization  has  been  influenced  by  geographical  conditions ; 
nations  who  have  lived  on  peninsulas  or  islands  with  scant  areas 
but  good  natural  harbors,  such  as  the  Greeks  and  the  English, 
have  in  some  respect  developed  differently  from  nations  like  the 
Americans  and  Russians,  who  made  settlements  on  the  edges  of 
vast  prairies  and  steppes  behind  slowly  advancing  frontiers. 
But,  far  from  being  the  mere  products  of  physical  and  econo- 


380  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

mic  conditions,  progressive  nations  have  always  studied  these 
conditions,  and  advanced  by  means  of  them,  and  often  appar- 
ently in  spite  of  them.  In  the  first  Part  of  this  book  we  have 
observed  some  features  of  the  remarkable  evolution  that  has 
taken  place  in  religion.  Not  less  instructive  is  the  history  of 
the  evolution  of  human  social  organization,  of  morality,  of  law 
and  government,  of  the  arts  and  sciences.  To  be  sure,  evolu- 
tion in  these  different  fields  has  not  everywhere  been  equally 
rapid,  and  some  races  have  not  contributed  to  any  of  its  phases 
at  all,  while  none  have  advanced  equally  far  in  them  all.  The 
general  tendency,  however,  has  been  for  the  results  of  progress 
that  has  taken  place  anywhere  to  be  contributed  ultimately  to 
the  other  nations  of  the  civilized  world,  and  in  our  generation 
all  peoples  either  have  in  some  measure  become  civilized,  or 
seem  assured  of  an  ultimate  share  in  the  benefits  of  civilization. 

To  be  sure,  there  are  difficulties  in  a  teleological  interpreta- 
tion of  evolution.  There  are  many  facts  that  do  not  appear 
to  us  to  harmonize  with  any  purposeful  process.  Take  the 
physical  conditions  on  the  earth's  surface.  We  have  seen  that 
they  were  marvelously  favorable  for  the  appearance  of  life, 
in  comparison  with  other  conditions  that  can  be  imagined.  But 
can  we  not  think  of  arrangements  that  would  have  been  better 
still?  There  are  large  areas  which  are  very  poorly  adapted 
for  life — the  polar  regions,  the  deserts,  the  vast  mountain  sys- 
tems. It  would  seem  that  a  planet  might  have  been  possible, 
in  accordance  with  physical  and  chemical  laws,  in  which  there 
would  not  have  been  so  many  unfavorable  environments.  And 
consider  organisms  themselves.  In  spite  of  their  whole  and 
part  relations,  they  contain  many  imperfect  arrangements. 
The  human  eye,  as  Helmholtz  pointed  out,  is  a  crude  instru- 
ment, packed  with  mistakes ;  while  the  vermiform  appendix  is 
a  positive  death  trap,  that  man  would  be  better  off  if  it  were 
not  a  part  of  his  body  at  all !  The  suctorial  organ  of  the  bed 
bug,  which  is  said  to  be  a  real  wonder  of  technics,  perhaps  is 
better  adapted  for  its  purpose  than  most  organs  in  the  human 
body.  Are  vermin  a  necessary  part  of  the  teleology  of  nature? 

The  process  of  organic  evolution  contains  many  forbidding 
aspects.  There  has  everywhere  been  a  fierce  struggle  for  ex- 
istence; most  living  beings  perish  before  their  time,  many  as 
food  for  others.  If  there  is  a  purposiveness  in  evolution,  it  is 
certainly  chiefly  concerned  with  the  development  of  species,  and 
careless  of  individual  lives.  But  even  species  have  often  sue- 


DYSTELEOLOGY  331 

cumbed.  Palaeontology  is  chiefly  a  history  of  bygone  species 
that  put  up  gallant  struggles  and  long  ago  perished.  If  the 
history  of  the  evolution  of  organisms  has  been,  as  Bergson  sup- 
poses, the  story  of  the  struggle  of  the  vital  impulse  to  produce 
higher  forms  of  life,  this  struggle  upward  has  been  blocked  in 
all  of  the  various  directions  in  which  it  started,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  man,  and  even  in  him,  valuable  goods  have  been  lost, 
and  intuition  had  to  be  almost  completely  sacrificed  to  intellect. 
Human  history  reveals  progress  to  us,  and  this  appears  to  us 
teleological.  But  this  is  in  some  measure  because  history  has 
been  written  from  the  side  of  the  victors.  How  would  history 
appear  if  written,  not  from  the  standpoint  of  Jews,  but  of 
Canaanites,  not  of  Greeks,  but  of  the  earlier  stocks  whom  they 
enslaved,  not  of  Romans  but  of  Carthaginians,  not  of  Amer- 
ican white  men,  but  of  the  Indians  ?  Countless  noble  races  and 
worthy  movements  have  been  crushed  in  human  history — can 
we  call  this  teleological?  And  what  of  earthquakes,  pestil- 
ences, famines,  and  wars?  And  think  of  all  the  misery  and 
suffering  we  see  in  the  world  today  among  good  and  innocent 
people !  How  many  a  youth  or  maiden,  dear  to  parents,  friends, 
and  lover,  has  died  prematurely !  How  many  a  young  mother 
has  been  snatched  from  her  babes,  how  many  a  father  lost  to 
his  young  family  when  most  they  need  his  protection  and  sup- 
port! 

That  there  is  much  evil  in  the  world  it  is  impossible  to  deny. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  evil  in  it,  the  world  order  as  a  whole 
indicates  preponderant  purposiveness.  The  earth  has  shown 
itself  well,  though  not  perfectly,  adapted  to  the  evolution  of 
life ;  organisms  do  have  the  whole  and  part  relation,  and  other 
teleological  features ;  not  only  is  it  true  that  those  animal 
species  have  always  survived  that  were  physically  fittest  to  fight 
in  the  struggle  for  existence,  but  also  that  the  survivors  have 
usually  been  the  ones  morally  best  fitted  to  leave  descendants 
that  would  rise  higher  in  the  scale;  those  human  races  and  in- 
dividuals have  been  successful  as  a  rule  who  had  most  to  con- 
tribute to  civilizations  in  their  own  time  and  to  the  progress 
of  succeeding  generations.  Exceptions  must  not  blind  us  to 
the  general  tendency ;  and  the  general  tendency  is  clearly  tele- 
ological. To  be  sure,  the  exceptions  must,  in  a  philosophical 
study  be  taken  into  account.  There  are  various  possible  ex- 
planations. Which  particular  one  the  reader  will  prefer  will 
largely  depend  on  what  particular  conception  of  God  he  finds 


332  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

most  convincing ;  and  accordingly  consideration  of  the  problem 
of  evil  will  be  postponed  until  the  next  chapter. 

VII — What  Does  the  World  Purpose  Include? 

Thus  far  in  this  chapter  the  nature  of  the  purposes  to  be 
attributed  to  the  world  order  has  not  been  definitely  consid- 
ered. If  the  world  and  the  process  of  evolution  are  purposive, 
what  are  the  purposes  at  which  they  are  aiming?  Is  it  pos- 
sible to  answer  this  question?  Only,  of  course,  in  part.  We 
can  follow  the  general  course  of  evolution  down  till  now,  but 
we  do  not  know  what  the  future  progress  of  man  upon  this 
earth  will  be.  We  do  not  know  what  processes  of  development 
are  going  on  in  other  planets.  And  we  do  not  know  in  what 
manner  the  achievements  which  man  has  made  on  the  earth  will 
be  conserved  after  the  planet  shall  have  grown  cold,  and  all  life 
upon  it  become  extinct. 

This  much,  however,  we  can  say.  If  the  evolution  of  our 
earth  and  of  its  inhabitants  has  been  teleological,  man  has  been 
the  most  important  part  of  this  evolution.  Man  has  advanced 
immeasurably  beyond  any  of  his  brute  competitors.  This  sup- 
erior advance  of  man  has  been  due  to  his  reason,  which  marks 
him  off  from  the  animals.  Aristotle  was  right  in  finding  that 
the  highest  excellence  of  man  consists  in  the  exercise  of  his 
reason.  So  the  production  and  further  development  of  a  ra- 
tional being,  able  to  interpret  the  world  order,  must  be  one  of 
the  important  ends  that  is  being  carried  out  in  this  particular 
part  of  the  universe.  Again,  the  principal  valuation  which  man 
is  able  to  place  upon  his  fellows  is  expressed  by  the  moral 
criterion,  good  and  bad.  Kant  may  have  overstated  the  case 
when  he  asserted  that  the  only  thing  of  absolute  value  in  the 
world  is  a  good  will,  or  a  good  character.  But  such  surely  is 
the  most  important  good  of  which  we  know. 

To  give  an  account  of  what  goodness  is,  as  thus  conceived 
to  be  the  most  valuable  thing  about  man  and  hence  one  of  the 
ends  of  the  universe,  would  necessitate  a  treatise  on  ethics.  But 
in  a  few  pages  it  will  be  possible  to  indicate  certain  of  the  di- 
rections in  which  goodness  has  thus  far  been  developing  among 
human  beings  on  this  planet. 

Among  the  least  developed  races  of  mankind  are  often  found 
some  of  the  simple  virtues — some  degree  at  least  of  truth  tell- 
ing, hospitality,  marital  fidelity  and  respect  for  property  rights. 
There  is  no  organized  authority  to  enforce  these  and  whatever 


THE  WORLD  PURPOSE 

other  duties  and  rights  are  recognized  by  tradition  and  custom, 
and  violations  are  punished  by  the  vengeance  which  their  in- 
stinctive anger  prompts  those  who  are  injured  to  seek.  Among 
races  a  little  higher  developed  the  clan  appears  with  a  loosely 
defined  organization  of  families.  A  man's  relatives  begin  to 
resent  an  injury  done  him,  and  to  assist  him  in  seeking  ven- 
geance. To  preserve  order  between  warring  families,  as  well 
as  to  prevent  sacral  offenses  thought  to  menace  the  clan  as  a 
whole,  some  organized  executive  and  judicial  authority  makes 
its  appearance.  Thus  far,  social  organization  is  based  chiefly 
on  family  ties,  real  or  legendary. 

But,  as  increased  population,  improvement  in  the  use  of 
weapons,  and  other  motives,  incite  to  more  frequent  warfare, 
the  centralized  authority  of  the  war  chief  becomes  that  of  an 
hereditary  king,  and  in  due  course,  the  various  social  classes 
of  royalty,  nobility,  commons,  and  serfs  or  slaves  become  dif- 
ferentiated. Private  property  increases  and  the  cleavage  be- 
tween rich  and  poor  appears.  Regularly  established  courts  and 
judges  and  written  laws  come  in;  priests,  liturgies,  temples, 
medicine  men,  magic  further  develop;  and  possibly  the  begin- 
nings of  science,  or  at  least  better  industrial  processes  are 
found.  Later  on  one  kingdom  proves  constantly  victorious  in 
war,  subjugates  its  neighbors,  and  evolves  into  a  great  empire. 
Under  this  empire  commerce  and  culture  extend  through  the 
wide  areas  that  have  been  brought  under  a  common  rule.  While 
the  authority  of  conquerors  first  rests  on  brute  force,  soon  this 
force  is  likely  to  become  transmuted  into  some  sort  of  author- 
ity, resting  at  first  chiefly  on  religious  teachings  like  the  divine 
right  of  the  king  and  the  duty  of  obedience  to  him  as  the  rep- 
resentative of  the  gods ;  but  later,  as  his  rule  proves  to  be  of 
actual  benefit  to  his  subjects,  the  authority  of  the  kingly  gov- 
ernment rests  on  more  clearly  moral  ground.  Ultimately 
either  through  revolutions  or  through  gradual  evolution,  gov- 
ernment passes  into  the  hands  of  the  people,  and  the  moral 
rights  and  duties  of  citizens  become  recognized  in  the  manner 
in  which  we  conceive  them  in  modern  democratic  states. 

In  the  early  stages  moral  rights  and  duties  are  chiefly  ap- 
plicable only  within  the  local  group ;  strangers  have  few  rights. 
Later,  all  of  one's  nation  are  recognized  to  have  both  moral 
and  legal  claims  upon  one,  but  other  nations  are  still  held  in 
low  esteem;  as  is  illustrated  by  the  attitude  of  ancient  Jews  to 
Gentiles,  of  ancient  Greeks  to  Barbarians.  In  the  ancient 


334       MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

A 

world,  however,  with  the  rise  of  the  world  empires  of  Alexander 
and  the  Romans  all  men  came  to  be  regarded  as  equal  in  moral 
and  legal  rights,  and  Stoics  and  Christians  alike  proclaimed 
the  fatherhood  of  God  and  the  brotherhood  of  man.  In  the 
modern  world,  in  part  as  a  result  of  our  heritage  of  Stoic  and 
Christian  teaching,  no  doubt,  moral  obligations  are  theoreti- 
cally believed  to  hold  between  all  human  beings  of  all  nations, 
and  the  various  peoples  of  the  modern  world  are  struggling 
to  work  out  conceptions  of  world  citizenship,  and  to  find  some 
device,  like  a  league  or  association  of  nations,  that  will  prove 
capable  of  enforcing  these  ideals. 

Such  have  been  some  of  the  general  features  in  the  course 
of  the  moral  evolution  that  has  taken  place  among  men.  Its 
threads  are  intertwined  with  the  threads  of  the  development  of 
social  organization,  government,  law,  industry,  religion,  and 
philosophy,  all  of  which  morality  has  influenced,  and  by  all  of 
which  it  has  been  influenced.  Moral  evolution  has  progressed 
by  no  means  along  a  straight  course;  it  has  followed  devious 
windings  and  turnings.  At  some  times  and  in  some  respects 
ethical  conceptions  have  been  in  the  lead  of  actual  conduct,  in 
other  periods  and  in  other  ways  men  have  often  practised  bet- 
ter than  they  have  preached.  Only  when  we  survey  the  course 
of  moral  evolution  over  long  periods,  say  a  thousands  years  at 
a  time,  are  we  assured  that  advance  has  been  real.  But  no  reas- 
onable man  can  hesitate  to  say  that  both  in  theory  and  practice 
ancient  Hebrews,  Greeks  and  Romans  were  far  in  advance,  both 
of  savages  and  of  the  ancient  civilizations  such  as  those  of 
Egypt  and  Babylonia,  that  preceded  them.  And  there  is  no 
doubt  that  modern  civilized  nations  have  advanced  further  still. 

To  reduce  the  course  of  moral  evolution  to  an  adequate  for- 
mula is  difficult,  perhaps  impossible.  That  there  has  been  gen- 
uine progress,  the  author  believes,  can  be  made  clear  if  the 
history  of  moral  development  is  tested  by  any  of  the  standards 
most  favored  by  writers  of  ethics,  such  as  increase  of  happi- 
ness, the  perfection  of  character,  self-realization,  the  promo- 
tion of  all  values,  and  the  like.  An  excellent  summary  is  that 
given  by  Professor  L.  T.  Hobhouse,  from  whose  Morals  in  Evo- 
lution, most  of  the  details  in  the  foregoing  account  have  been 
derived : — "If,  then,  the  whole  course  of  history,  or  say,  rather 
physical,  biological,  and  social  evolution,  is  to  be  summed  up 
in  this — that  it  is  a  process  wherein  mind  grows  from  the  hum- 
blest of  beginnings  to  an  adult  vigor,  in  which  it  can — as  in 


THE  WORLD  PURPOSE  335 

the  creed  of  humanity  it  does — conceive  the  idea  of  directing 
its  own  course,  mastering  the  conditions  external  and  internal 
of  its  exercise,  if  this  is  a  true  account  of  evolution — and  it  is 
the  account  to  which  positive  science  points — then  we  cannot  say 
that  this  is  a  mean  and  unimportant  feature  of  reality  that  is 
disclosed  to  us.  We  can  hardly  suppose  such  a  process  acci- 
dental or  quite  peculiar  to  the  conditions  of  this  earth.  At  any 
rate,  as  far  as  the  widest  synthesis  of  our  experience  goes,  it 
shows  us  Reality  as  the  movement  towards  self-realization  of  a 
mind  appearing  under  rigidly  limited  conditions  of  physical 
organization  in  countless  organisms,  and  aiming  for  the  first 
time  at  a  partial  unity  in  the  consciousness  of  a  common  hu- 
manity with  a  common  aim,"  34. 

Other  writers  on  comparative  ethics  have  indicated  other 
aspects  of  moral  evolution.  Though  Professor  Edward  Weste- 
marck's  great  work  is  centered  more  upon  the  beginnings  of 
moral  development  than  its  outcome  in  the  higher  civilizations, 
he  indicates  the  manner  in  which  the  altruistic  sentiment  has 
widened  and  deepened ;  and  he  assures  us  of  the  certainty  in  light 
of  the  laws  of  moral  evolution  derived  from  a  study  of  the  past, 
that  altruism  will  continue  to  expand  and  that  the  notion  of 
human  brotherhood  will  receive  increased  support  from  the 
actual  feelings  of  mankind,  35. 

Professor  Alexander  Sutherland  has  impressively  traced  the 
evolution  of  the  moral  sentiment  down  from  the  maternal  in- 
stinct in  animals  to  its  heightened  development  at  the  present 
time,  36.  Professor  William  McDougall  has  indicated  the  psy- 
chology of  the  process  by  which,  in  the  human  being,  the  in- 
stincts and  emotions  which  he  has  in  common  with  the  higher 
animals  have  become  organized,  directed  and  controlled  in  sen- 
timents, and  how  these  sentiments  come  to  constitute  a  self, 
which  in  the  best  men  at  least,  is  actuated  by  the  ideal  of  a 
perfected  or  completely  moral  life,  37. 

The  accounts  of  the  historians  of  morality  make  it  clear  that 
there  has  been  a  gradual  evolution  of  human  beings  with  impul- 
ses to  mutual  helpfulness  and  service  and  the  attainment  of  a 
common  humanity,  in  which  each  individual  seeks  the  good  of  the 
whole,  and  in  which  the  welfare  of  each  individual  is  conserved  by 
society  as  a  whole.  Of  course  this  outcome  has  by  no  means  been 
fully  achieved ;  the  horrors  of  the  great  war  painfully  indicate 
the  present  moral  imperfections  of  man ;  but  in  theory  and  in 
practice,  as  the  ages  pass,  it  is  coming  about.  This,  then,  is 


33G  MECHANISM  AND  TELEOLOGY 

one  of  the  ends  of  the  universe — the  evolution  of  moral  beings 
upon  the  earth.  To  this  extent  we  may  therefore  say  that  this 
iii  a  moral  universe,  that  is,  it  is  a  universe  that  recognizes  and 
seeks  to  achieve  moral  ends.  A  teleological  universe  must  be 
a  moral  universe.  The  reader  should  take  notice  of  this  con- 
clusion. Much  follows  from  it.  We  may  conclude  with  reason- 
able probability  that  such  a  universe  as  ours,  since  it  is  a  tele- 
ological universe  in  which  purposes  are  achieved,  and  a  moral 
universe  in  which  moral  values  are  appreciated  and  realized, 
is  a  universe  that  includes  morality  in  its  ultimate  ends  and 
purposes.  In  such  a  universe  we  have  ground  to  hope  that 
whatever  is  just  and  morally  desirable  will  ultimately  come  to 
pass.  Several  important  arguments  regarding  God  and  im- 
mortality which  we  shall  study  in  the  following  chapters  rest 
on  the  assumption  that  this  is  a  moral  universe, — an  assump- 
tion which,  while  admittedly  by  no  means  demonstrated,  appears 
to  be  based  on  reasonable  probability. 

Are  there  not  other  purposes  in  the  evolution  of  man  besides 
the  attainment  of  moral  ends?  Well,  it  should  be  understood 
that  "moral  ends"  and  "moral  purposes,"  as  the  terms  are  used 
by  the  author,  are  not  intended  merely  to  include  the  fulfilment 
of  duty  (to  which  rigorists  in  ethics  like  Kant  largely  restrict 
morality,  a  fact  that  tends  to  make  morality  often  sound  harsh 
to  popular  ears  today)  but  also  to  include  all  that  makes  for 
a  larger  and  fuller  life,  for  the  perfection  of  man  on  all  sides 
of  his  nature, — in  other  words  the  Greek  conception  at  its  best, 
but  broadened  to  include  the  love  of  all  mankind  within  its 
scope.  The  moral  ideal  ought  to  include  the  development  of 
beautiful  souls  joined  to  beautiful  bodies,  and  consecrated  to 
the  search  for  all  forms  of  the  true,  the  good  and  the  beautiful. 
The  end  of  human  evolution,  in  other  words,  should  be  under- 
stood to  imply  the  development  of  humanity  in  all  its  valuable 
aspects.  Whether  we  call  all  of  these  aspects  moral,  or 
whether  to  moral  values  more  narrowly  conceived,  we  add  values 
of  truth  and  beauty,  is  largely  a  matter  of  definition.  At  any 
rate,  the  author  hopes  that  the  reader  is  convinced  that  the 
weight  of  probability  inclines  to  the  conclusion  that  we  are  liv- 
ing in  a  universe  that  is  both  teleological  and  moral,  and  that 
includes  within  its  scope  the  highest  advancement  of  human- 
ity, 88. 

REFERENCES 

*FUIEDRICH  PATTLSEN,  Introduction  to  Philosophy,  Book  I,  Chap.  II. 

*E.  C.  WILM,  Problem  of  Religion,  Chapters  III,  IV. 


REFERENCES  337 

*DtrnAtrr  D3AKE,  Problems  of  Religion,  Chap.  XIX. 
*J.  A.  THOMSON,  Bible  of  Nature. 
*PATRICK  GEDDES  and  J.  A.  THOMSON,  Evolution. 
*S.  HEnnrRT,  First  Principles  of  Evolution. 
'WILLIAM  PATTEN,  The  Grand  Strategy  of  Evolution. 
HENRI  BEROSON,  Creative  Evolution.     Matter  and  Memory. 
J.  S.  HALDANE,  Mechanism,  Life  and  Personality.     Organism  and  En- 
vironment.     Articles   in   Proceedings    of    the   Aristotelian   Society,    N.    S., 
Vol.  18,  pp.  419-436. 

LAWRENCE  J.  HENDERSON,  Fitness  of  the  Environment.  Order  of  Nature, 
especially  Chap.  X.  Articles  in  Philosophical  Review,  Vols.  XXV  and 
XXVII. 

*C.  LLOYD  MORGAN,  Instinct  and  Experience. 
V.  L.  KELLOGG,  Darwinism  To-day. 

JACQUES  LOEB,  The  Organism  as  a  Whole,  From  a  Psychic-Chemical 
Standpoint.  The  Mechanistic  Conception  of  Life. 

HANS  DRIESCH,  The  Science  and  Philosophy  of  the  Organism. 
L.    T.    HOBHOUSE,    Development    and    Purpose.      Mind    in    Evolution. 
Morals  in  Evolution. 

A.  S.  PRINGLE-PATTISON,  The  Idea  of  God  in  the  Light  of  Recent 
Philosophy,  Chaps.  Ill,  IV. 

JAMES  WARD,  The  Realm  of  Ends,  especially  Chap.  V. 
R.  F.  ALFRED  HOERNLE,  Studies  in  Contemporary  Metaphysics,  especially 
Chapters  VI,  VII. 

JOHN  BROADUS  WATSON,  Behavior,  especially  Chapter  I. 
WILLIAM  McDouGALL,  Body  and  Mind. 
HUGO  MUNSTEIIBERG,  Psychology,  General  and  Applied. 
H.  S.  JENNINGS,  The  Behavior  of  Loroer  Organisms. 
BENJAMIN  MOORE,  The  Origin  and  Nature  of  Life. 
G.  H.  HOWISON,  The  Limits  of  Evolution. 
HERBERT  SPENCER,  First  Principles. 

*JOHN  FISKE,  The  Destiny  of  Man.     Outlines  of  Cosmic  Philosophy. 
See  also  the  other  references  given  in  the  NOTES  to  this  Chapter. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


WE  are  now  ready  to  face  the  central  questions  in  the  whole 
philosophy  of  religion,  those  concerning  the  existence  and  nat- 
ture  of  God.  If  it  can  be  shown  to  be  reasonably  probable 
that  there  exists  a  God  who  favors  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
moral  values,  the  philosophical  study  in  which  we  have  been 
engaged  can  be  brought  to  largely  affirmative  conclusions 
regarding  the  truth  and  worth  of  religion.  But  if  the 
weight  of  probability  should  prove  to  be  unfavorable,  or  to 
be  so  slight  as  to  warrant  no  conclusions,  the  outcome  would 
be  quite  different.  Religions,  to  be  sure,  are  possible  that  do 
not  affirm  belief  in  a  God;  outlines  of  such  beliefs  have  been 
seriously  advanced  in  our  own  time,  1.  But  the  scope  of  con- 
fidence that  man  can  gain,  either  in  himself  or  in  the  universe, 
through  such  religions,  is  restricted.  If  the  preponderance  of 
evidence  for  the  existence  of  God  appears  fairly  strong,  it  will 
not  be  necessary  to  enter  into  a  consideration  of  such  religions. 
It  will  in  that  case  be  enough,  within  the  limits  of  this  volume, 
to  trace  in  later  chapters  some  of  the  consequences  that  follow 
from  acceptance  of  God. 

I — The  Conception  of  God  is  Symbolical  and  Anthropomorphic 
Before  proceeding  further,  one  point  needs  to  be  made  clear. 
If  there  be  a  God,  all  human  conceptions  of  Him  must  be  re- 
garded as  symbolical,  not  as  exactly  representative  of  Him. 
Even  if  one  thinks  of  a  simple  class  concept,  like  'man,'  'dog,' 
'house,'  it  is  quite  impossible  to  call  to  consciousness  at  any 
moment  all  that  the  word  means  to  one.  Psychologists  say  that 
what  any  one  does  under  such  circumstances  is  to  recall  some 
bit  of  sensuous  imagery,  which  serves  to  represent  or  symbolize 
what  the  idea  means.  Still  less  is  it  possible  to  form  adequate 
representations  in  our  minds  at  any  time  of  what  we  mean  by 
'liberty,'  'justice,'  'science,'  'democracy.'  To  arouse  patriot- 
ism nations  find  it  necessary  to  adopt  flags.  A  flag  is  a  symbol. 
Taken  literally  a  national  flag  is  only  a  bit  of  brightly  colored 


338 


SYMBOLISM  339 

bunting;  but  vast  libraries  of  history  and  constitutional  law 
only  imperfectly  express  what  the  flag  symbolizes.  No  scholar, 
however  learned,  at  any  instant  can  recall  everything  that  his 
country  means  to  him.  In  times  of  emergency,  he,  like  the  plain 
man,  must  give  his  devotion  to  the  Flag.  Of  course  we  believe 
that  there  are  real  values  that  the  flag  symbolizes ;  we  believe 
in  our  constitution  and  in  the  values  that  it  assures  to  us.  Men 
would  not  die  for  the  flag  if  they  did  not  treasure  these  values. 
But  it  usually  suffices  to  think  of  the  flag,  and  not  of  the  values 
themselves. 

In  the  sciences  symbols  are  used  in  a  different  way.  Here 
the  appeal  is  not  to  sentiment,  but  to  reflection.  It  is  neces- 
sary to  find  some  effective  manner  of  symbolizing  experimental 
data,  and  getting  control  over  them  for  future  investigation. 
The  atom  and  the  electron  are  such  symbols.  Nobody  ever 
saw  them,  or  ever  will  see  them.  They  serve  for  the  purposes 
of  the  exact  sciences  at  the  present  time,  but  no  thoughtful 
scientist  doubts  that  these  conceptions  will  be  greatly  amplified 
and  corrected  with  the  further  advance  of  knowledge. 

The  conception  of  God  is  symbolical  in  both  of  these  respects. 
As  used  in  religious  worship,  it  serves  to  center  men's  devotion 
upon  a  Being  with  whom  men  can  feel  themselves  in  sympathy. 
The  God  of  Judaism  and  Christianity  is  thought  of  as  Father 
— a  term  full  of  tender  suggestiveness.  Any  one  who  reflects 
upon  the  matter  will  realize,  however,  that  the  conception  is 
not  meant  to  be  taken  literally.  The  imagery  of  Father  is 
merely  intended  to  bring  into  the  worshipper's  consciousness 
the  sentiments  which  he  ought  to  feel  toward  God.  The  use  of 
such  a  symbol  is  justifiable  if  there  really  is  a  Being  toward 
whom  man  ought  to  feel  such  sentiments  as  a  child  feels  toward 
his  father ;  otherwise  not.  As  used  in  philosophy,  the  concep- 
tion of  God  is  employed,  not  for  purposes  of  sentiment  and 
devotion,  but  in  the  endeavor  to  understand  the  universe,  and 
man's  relation  to  it.  The  symbols  of  physics  are  justifiable, 
because  through  them  man  is  enabled  to  some  extent  to  under- 
stand and  control  physical  conditions.  The  symbol  of  God  is 
justifiable  in  philosophy,  provided  that  through  it  man  is  bet- 
ter able  to  understand  and  to  adapt  himself  to  the  world  in 
which  he  lives ;  otherwise  not. 

Let  no  one  be  concerned  if  he  is  told  that  the  notion  of  God 
is  anthropomorphic,  i.  e.,  that  in  this  conception  man  has  pro- 
jected a  representation  of  himself.  Of  course  the  notion  is  an- 


340  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

thropomorphic.  So  is  the  theory  of  atoms,  for  that  matter, 
so  are  other  scientific  conceptions.  In  such  concepts  as  the 
atom,  the  ether  and  the  electron,  scientists  have  imagined  some- 
thing existing  in  the  civ^rnal  world  that  corresponds  to  some 
of  the  characteristics  of  human  sensations  of  pressure,  strain, 
and  resistance.  In  the  conception  of  God,  man  has  imagined 
something  in  reality  corresponding  to  certain  characteristics 
of  human  personality.  The  physical  scientist  is  right  in  his 
anthropomorphism  because  of  his  successful  employment  of  his 
symbols  in  his  investigations.  Can  the  philosopher  of  religion 
show  that  the  symbol  of  God  is  successful  in  the  interpretation 
of  the  world  and  of  human  experience?  If  so,  his  anthropo- 
morphism is  also  justified.  Anthropomorphism  is  only  wrong 
when  it  leads  to  erroneous  consequences.  The  crude  forms  of 
early  Hebrew  anthropomorphism,  which  pictured  God  as  tak- 
ing a  walk  in  a  garden  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  and  as  absurdly 
given  to  fits  of  anger  and  jealousy  led  to  erroneous  conse- 
quences. Still,  the  early  Hebrew  notion  of  God  was  probably 
as  workable  as  any  notion  that  existed  in  the  natural  science 
of  that  time,  or  for  long  afterward.  It  is  no  more  reasonable 
to  condemn  present  ideas  of  God  on  the  ground  of  their  anthro- 
pomorphism, or  because  they  were  preceded  in  earlier  ages  by 
cruder  anthropomorphisms,  than  it  would  be  to  condemn  pres- 
ent scientific  conceptions  for  similar  reasons. 

II — Arguments  for  the  Existence  of  God 

Before  discussing  arguments  for  the  existence  of  God,  let 
us  first  be  clear  in  our  minds  precisely  what  needs  to  be  estab- 
lished. What  is  meant  by  God?  An  exact  definition  of  God  is 
obviously  impossible.  Human  knowledge  is  too  restricted  for 
that.  The  motive  of  this  section  of  the  present  chapter  is  much 
more  modest.  It  is  to  seek  a  reply  to  the  following  problem : — 
"Is  there  sufficient  evidence  to  render  reasonably  probable  the 
existence  of  a  Being  of  such  a  nature  that  the  evolution  of 
religions,  which  we  studied  in  Part  I,  and  the  types  of  religious 
experience,  which  we  studied  in  Part  II,  may  be  regarded  as 
something  more  than  merely  subjective  delusions?  Is  it  likely 
that  through  such  religions  and  in  such  types  of  experience 
men  have,  however  imperfectly,  come  into  touch  with  a  Being 
who  exists,  not  merely  as  an  Alter  in  human  consciousness,  but 
in  Reality?" 

As  we  saw  in  Chapter  XVI,  such  a  Being  may  be  regarded 


TELEOLOGY 

either  as  an  external  or  as  an  immanent  God.  In  considering 
the  evidence  for  the  existence  of  God  in  this  chapter,  argu- 
ments that  favor  either  or  both  of  these  conceptions  will  be 
presented.  Not  until  we  come  to  consider  the  nature  of  God 
in  the  following  chapter  will  it  be  necessary  to  discriminate 
between  them. 

1 — Teleological  and  Evolutionary  Arguments 

As  the  preceding  chapter  will  have  suggested,  the  author 
regards  the  strongest  argument  for  the  existence  of  God  to  be 
the  teleological  argument.  If  the  evidence  in  that  chapter  con- 
vinced the  reader  that  the  weight  of  probability  inclines  in 
favor  of  a  teleological  and  a  moral  universe,  included  among 
whose  purposes  is  the  development  of  man  as  a  moral  being, 
he  ought  to  find  little  difficulty  with  the  question  of  the  exist- 
ence of  God.  That  there  is  a  God  of  some  sort  seems  almost 
an  inevitable  consequence  of  believing  that  the  world  order  is 
purposive  in  its  development.  For,  wherever  we  see  the  evi- 
dences of  purpose,  we  are  inclined  to  assume  a  purposer.  If 
the  world  order  is  purposive,  this  seems  to  imply  a  world  Pur- 
poser.  This  does  not  necessarily  mean  that  the  world  has  had 
a  Creator ;  it  is  not  necessary  to  believe  that  there  ever  was  a 
time  when  there  was  no  world,  and  that  God  afterwards  made 
the  world  out  of  chaos,  or  out  of  nothing.  So  far  as  the  argu- 
ment of  the  book  has  yet  proceeded,  the  reader  is  free  to  accept 
or  reject  the  doctrine  of  Creation.  The  teleological  evidence 
merely  indicates  the  probable  existence  of  a  Mind  that  is,  at 
least  in  considerable  measure,  in  control  of  the  world  process — 
enough  so  to  account  for  the  amount  of  teleology  apparent  in  it. 

The  only  alternative  to  the  acceptance  of  some  sort  of  God 
would  be  to  say  that  the  world  process  is  only  blindly  teleolog- 
ical, not  consciously  so.  Let  us  imagine  an  advocate  of  this 
alternative  speaking.  "Plants  are  teleological  to  a  limited  ex- 
tent ;  the  fact  that  they  are  unconscious  does  not  prevent  them 
from  being  teleological,  though  they  are  quite  unaware  of  the 
fact.  Much  of  the  teleology  in  animals,  and,  for  that  matter, 
in  our  own  bodies  also,  goes  on  without  the  aid  of  conscious- 
ness. Suppose,  then,  that  we  admit  that  the  evolution  of  the 
various  forms  of  plant  and  animal  species  has  been  purposive; 
need  we  assume  the  presence  in  this  evolution  of  a  Mind, — of 
any  being  that  in  any  sense  could  be  called  God?  And  still  less 
do  we  need  to  assume  consciousness  of  any  sort  to  have  been 


342  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

present  in  the  earth  before  the  appearance  of  life,  although 
some  sort  of  teleology  was  present  in  the  fitness  of  the  environ- 
ment for  life.  No,  the  world  order  may  to  some  extent  be  tele- 
ological,  but  consciousness  only  appears  in  animal  organisms, 
and  only  reaches  its  highest  development  so  far  as  we  know,  in 
man.  Admitting  that  the  world  order  is  teleological,  it  does 
not  follow  that  the  world  as  a  whole  has  a  Mind." 

It  is  for  the  reader  to  decide  which  interpretation  of  tele- 
ology appears  to  him  the  more  reasonable.  Proof  here  is  im- 
possible ;  we  can  only  select  the  more  probable  of  the  two  alter- 
natives. Let  us  consider  each  of  them  as  an  interpretation  of 
the  world  process.  (1)  If  we  say  that  the  latter  has  gone 
on  without  a  God,  we  are  obliged  to  assume  that  inorganic  mat- 
ter itself  contains  some  kind  of  inherent  purposiveness  which 
gives  rise  to  a  favorable  environment,  and  later  expresses  itself 
in  organisms.  Organisms  become  increasingly  purposive,  in 
the  higher  animals  a  little  of  this  purposiveness  becomes  con- 
scious, and,  finally  man  emerges  with  memory,  imagination,  and 
reason.  Man  accordingly  possesses  more  purposiveness  than 
anything  else  in  the  universe  of  which  we  have  any  knowledge. 
(2)  If,  taking  the  other  alternative,  we  assume  that  the  uni- 
verse as  a  whole  has  a  Mind,  we  can  say  that  the  general  course 
of  the  evolution  of  the  earth  from  start  to  finish  has  been  the 
development  of  the  purposes  of  this  Mind.  From  the  earliest 
gaseous  state  of  the  primitive  nebula  till  now,  a  divine  Mind 
has  been  operating  here,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  in  the  universe. 
The  happy  combination  of  elements  favorable  for  the  appear- 
ance of  life,  the  slow  and  toiling  ascent  from  the  lowliest  forms 
until  the  dawn  of  reason  in  man,  and  the  more  rapid  progress 
of  man  in  human  institutions,  have  all  been  the  gradual  develop- 
ment of  the  purposes  of  an  intelligent  Mind.  Does  it  appear 
conceivable  that  this  impressive  evolution  could  have  gone  on 
without  the  guidance  of  a  conscious  Mind  whose  intelligence  is 
immeasurably  superior  to  that  of  man? 

It  would  be  easy  here  to  introduce  rhetorical  arguments,  to 
quote  poetry,  or  otherwise  to  make  an  emotional  or  sentimental 
appeal  for  the  position  favored  by  the  author.  But  that  might 
seem  like  begging  the  question  or  ignoring  the  issue.  Let 
the  reader  face  the  two  alternatives  and  choose  for  himself. 
As  a  matter  of  pure  probability  and  intrinsic  reasonableness, 
is  it  not  a  great  deal  more  thinkable  that  the  evolution  of  a  tele- 
ological and  moral  universe  has  been  attended  by  a  conscious 


RELIGIOUS  EXPERIENCE  343 

Mind  than  that  it  has  gone  on  simply  of  itself  without  such  a 
Mind? 

The  reasoning  in  Chapter  XIII  may  be  regarded  as  another 
evolutionary  argument  for  the  existence  of  God.  For  if  the 
Christian  religion  can  be  regarded  as  most  successful  of  all 
religions  (with  the  possible  exception  of  the  Jewish  religion 
for  the  Jews  themselves, — a  religion  that  is  at  one  with  Chris- 
tianity in  its  belief  in  a  God)  in  the  conservation  of  values, 
and  if  this  religion  is  the  present  outcome  of  an  evolution  in 
which  man  has  been  in  constant  effort  to  adjust  himself  to  his 
environment  since  primitive  times,  and  if  it  is  probable  that 
the  future  evolution  of  religion  will  be  a  future  evolution  of 
Christianity, — then  is  it  not  highly  probable  that  the  God  of 
Christianity  is  symbolical  of  something  that  really  exists  in 
the  universe,  and  is  it  not  highly  improbable  that  the  God  of 
Christianity  is  a  mere  figment  of  human  fancy? 

2 — Arguments  Based  on  Religious  Experience 

If  the  evidence  from  teleology  in  favor  of  a  God  could  re- 
ceive further  support  by  some  other  class  of  evidence,  it  would 
be  considerably  strengthened.  Can  such  evidence  be  found? 
Well,  if  there  be  a  God,  who  markedly  directs  the  course  of 
evolution  toward  moral  ends,  inclusive  of  man,  we  should  ex- 
pect men  to  have  become  aware  of  Him  from  time  to  time, 
should  we  not? 

Abundant  assertions  of  such  experiences  are  to  be  found  in 
the  religious  literature  of  all  ages.  In  Part  I,  we  found  a  grad- 
ual evolution  in  the  conceptions  of  the  agency  through  which 
spiritual  values  are  conserved,  until  the  Agency  became  thought 
of  as  God.  This  is  empirical  evidence  of  a  Being,  of  which 
men  have  believed  themselves  to  be  conscious,  and  this  concep- 
tion has  evolved  in  logical  clearness  and  moral  worth  with  the 
increasing  intelligence  of  the  nations  who  have  had  these  ex- 
periences. In  Part  II  we  studied  types  of  religious  experience 
from  the  standpoints  of  the  individuals  who  underwent  them. 
We  found  individual  human  experiences  of  continuous  growth, 
spontaneous  awakenings,  conversion,  prayer,  and  mysticism, 
all  of  which  appear  valuable  and  genuine  to  those  who  have 
undergone  them. 

When  we  consider  the  great  voice  of  testimony  to  the  ex- 
perience of  God  that  has  come  down  the  ages  from  men  of 
every  race,  nation,  and  religion,  and  when  we  consider  the  mul- 


844  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

titude  of  people  in  every  walk  of  life  today  who  feel  comforted 
and  sustained  by  the  presence  of  God,  can  we  regard  this  evi- 
dence as  negligible?  The  fact  that  adherents  of  all  faiths  have 
had  these  experiences,  is  a  difficulty  only  for  the  man  who  be- 
lieves that  his  religion  is  the  only  true  one.  For  the  philoso- 
phical student  who  believes  that  there  is  some  degree  of  truth 
in  every  religion,  the  testimony  of  one  religious  worshipper  to 
the  blessings  that  the  Christian  or  Jewish  God  has  vouchsafed 
him,  that  of  another  to  his  experience  of  the  favors  of  Allah, 
and  that  of  a  third,  that  his  vocation  in  life  has  been  revealed 
to  him  by  Gitchie  Manitou,  are  all  affirmative  and  mutually 
confirmatory.  None  of  these  experiences,  of  course,  is  infal- 
lible, all  are  to  be  critically  tested;  but  all  contain  truth  and 
are  imperfect  manifestations  of  an  ineffable  Being  that  has 
been  symbolized  with  varying  degrees  of  accuracy,  in  all  times 
and  in  all  ages. 

To  many  of  us,  no  doubt,  the  empirical  argument  appears 
strongest  when  some  one  whom  we  personally  know  and  revere 
— some  good  man  or  woman  the  strength  and  helpfulness  of 
whose  personal  character  has  been  a  source  of  moral  benefit  to 
us  and  to  others — tells  us  (or  better,  does  not  need  to  tell  us) 
that  the  experience  of  God  has  been  the  support  of  his  or  her 
life.  Every  one  has  known  such  people,  and  profoundly  re- 
spected them,  and  considered  it  a  privilege  to  have  come  with- 
in their  influence.  Stronger  than  any  reasoned  argument,  will 
appear  to  many  the  evidence  that  such  lives  afford.  It  cannot 
be  that  these  people  have  been  deluded — that  the  God  who  has 
been  the  inspiration  of  their  lives,  and  through  their  lives,  of 
ours — is  merely  a  product  of  their  imaginations !  The  truth 
cannot  be  less  than  good  people  suppose  it  to  be ;  for  instance, 
if  their  horizons  are  limited,  and  they  have  not  learned  charity 
to  those  of  different  faiths  than  their  own,  and  each  speaks  in 
the  language  of  his  own  creed,  it  is  not  that  these  creeds  are 
wholly  false,  but  that  the  God  that  they  seek  to  interpret  is 
more  inclusive  than  any  creed,  or  all  creeds  put  together,  2. 

3 — Moral  Arguments 

At  the  close  of  the  preceding  chapter,  the  conclusion  was 
reached  that  this  is  a  moral  universe,  and  the  reader  was  warned 
that  important  arguments  regarding  God  and  immortality  rest 
on  this  conclusion.  Three  such  arguments  for  God,  two  of 


MORAL  ARGUMENTS  345 

which  are  also  arguments  for  immortality,  now  demand  our 
consideration. 

(1) — A  Moral  Universe  Implies  a  God 

If  we  commend  the  action  of  another  man  as  "good,"  or  if 
we  condemn  it  as  "bad,"  we  imply  that  this  man  is  a  conscious 
being,  sane  and  intelligent,  able  to  pass  judgments  on  what 
should  be  done,  and  to  make  a  choice.  To  be  a  moral  being, 
and  to  be  morally  responsible,  and  so  to  act  in  a  manner  that 
is  either  morally  praiseworthy  or  blamable,  implies  conscious- 
ness, reasoning  power,  choice,  and  volition.  Insane  people  and 
infants  are  not  morally  responsible  because  they  lack  these 
qualifications.  Still  less  can  we  think  of  animals,  plants,  or 
inanimate  objects  as  in  any  sense  moral. 

From  this  analogy  it  follows  that  to  the  extent  that  this  is 
a  moral  universe, — that  is,  a  universe  aiming  at  ends  which  in- 
clude the  development  of  man  as  a  moral  being, — it  must  be  a 
universe  that  is  guided  in  its  course  by  a  Being  that  is  conscious, 
that  is  rational,  and  that  wills  the  ultimate  triumph  of  what  is 
good.  To  the  extent  that  "moral"  as  used  in  its  wider  sense 
may  be  said  to  include  ends  of  truth  and  beauty,  these  too  can 
only  be  thought  to  be  ends  of  a  universe  that  is  under  the  guid- 
ance of  such  a  Being. 

A  study  of  the  history  of  any  of  the  moral  achievements  of 
mankind  suggests  that  there  must  have  been  in  operation  the 
mind  and  will  of  a  Being  greater  than  men.  In  any  critical 
period  of  history,  what  statesman  has  fully  grasped  the  mean- 
ing of  what  he  was  doing?  What  man  among  the  builders  of 
Athens  conceived  the  full  significance  of  what  Athens  was  be- 
coming and  contributing  to  the  world  before  Thucidydes  as 
an  historian,  looking  backward  upon  what  had  been  accom- 
plished, was  able  to  make  the  brilliant  interpretation  which  he 
has  given  us  as  Pericles'  funeral  oration?  Did  Julius  Caesar 
when  he  crossed  the  Rubicon,  or  at  any  time  in  his  life,  or  did 
any  of  his  contemporaries,  grasp  what  the  founding  of  the 
Roman  Empire  was  to  mean  to  the  world?  To  take  illustrations 
from  the  history  of  our  own  country.  How  far  did  Washing- 
ton understand  what  the  republic  he  and  his  contemporaries 
were  struggling  to  bring  into  existence  was  to  mean  to  the 
world,  either  during  the  winter  at  Valley  Forge,  or  the  delib- 
erations of  the  Constitutional  Convention,  or  even  his  admin- 


346  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

istration  as  President?  When  Lincoln,  through  the  darker 
periods  of  the  Civil  War — or  the  brighter  ones  for  that  mat- 
ter— was  struggling  to  preserve  the  union,  and  to  win  the 
freedom  of  the  slaves,  did  he  appreciate  the  full  significance 
of  what  he  was  doing?  Perhaps  he  did  when  he  delivered  the 
Gettysburg  address,  you  say ;  but  that  was  after  the  turning 
point  of  the  war  had  passed,  3.  Take  a  more  recent  illustra- 
tion. During  the  course  of  the  Great  War,  what  statesman, 
especially  in  the  earlier  years,  was  awake  to  the  moral  signi- 
ficance of  the  conflict?  Who  has  correctly  measured  it,  even 
now?  The  moral  experience  of  mankind,  though  always  full 
of  imperfections  and  inconsistencies,  is  more  profound  and 
more  sublime  than  any  of  the  interpretations  that  poet,  states- 
man, or  scholar  are  able  to  formulate.  This  is  true,  not  only 
of  the  morality  achieved  through  war  and  political  movements, 
but  as  well  of  the  advances  of  law,  art,  literature,  science,  re- 
ligion, of  all  forms  of  human  activity.  It  is  safe  to  say  that 
neither  Raphael  nor  Michaelangelo,  Shakespeare  nor  Goethe, 
Darwin  nor  Pasteur,  grasped  the  full  significance  of  what  they 
were  doing.  No  saint  nor  theologian  has  penetrated  the  depths 
of  religious  experience.  In  all  the  achievements  of  human  ex- 
perience, the  fathers  have  built  better  than  they  knew.  Can  we 
believe  that  no  Intelligence  greater  than  human  intelligence 
has  been  operative  in  these  developments?  Was  it  possible  for 
mankind  in  so  many  fields  to  develop  ends  which  no  individual 
man  at  the  time  but  very  imperfectly  understood?  Can  we 
suppose  that  the  purposes  of  a  moral  universe  are  not  grasped 
by  any  mind  in  it,  until  finite  minds  like  ours  slowly  begin  to 
appreciate  these  purposes  after  they  have  largely  been  accom- 
plished? Must  we  not  rather  suppose  that  there  has  been  a 
divine  Mind  immanent  in  the  processes  by  which  the  achieve- 
ments of  mankind  have  been  accomplished,  and  that  human 
interpreters  of  history,  law,  art,  literature,  science,  and  religion 
are  gaming  self  consciousness  of  the  thoughts  of  this  God?  4. 

(2) — The  Consciousness  of  Duty  Implies  a  God 

If  we  examine  what  we  recognize  to  be  our  duty,  we  realize 
that  it  is  far  more  than  we  are  able  to  accomplish.  Nothing 
short  of  absolute  perfection  and  holiness  is  enjoined  upon  man 
by  the  New  Testament ;  and,  apart  from  all  sacred  books,  every 
intelligent  man  who  is  honest  with  himself  will  have  to  admit 
that  he  ought  to  be  absolutely  pure  and  righteous  in  his  every 


MORAL  ARGUMENTS  317 

thought,  word,  and  deed,  and  that  he  ought  to  make  the  most 
of  every  opportunity  that  comes  his  way  either  to  be  of  service 
to  others  or  to  further  his  own  higher  advancement.  Yet  what 
man  has  ever  been  fully  faithful  to  the  duties  that  he  owed 
himself,  to  say  nothing  of  the  claims  of  others  upon  him?  And 
the  more  conscientious  a  person  is,  the  more  he  makes  a  suc- 
cess of  his  vocation  in  life,  the  greater  and  more  numerous  are 
the  responsibilities  that  become  his,  and  the  more  impossible 
does  fulfilment  become !  The  really  good  man  is,  of  all  men, 
most  painfully  aware  of  his  own  failures  and  shortcomings. 
When,  at  last,  a  man's  life  draws  towards  its  close,  and  his 
strength  declines,  it  seems  to  him  that  he  was  only  beginning 
to  be  able  to  do  his  best  and  accomplish  most,  and  his  life  to  be 
something  of  value  in  the  world.  In  a  moral  universe,  these 
years  of  preparation  cannot  be  without  meaning  for  the  future. 
In  a  moral  universe  man  must  be  free  to  do  his  duty !  How 
could  anything  be  a  duty  if  one  could  not  perform  it!  The 
very  fact  that  an  infinite  duty  confronts  man  which  he  is 
forced  to  acknowledge  is  a  guarantee  that  he  can  perform  it. 
"Du  kannst  denn  du  sollst,"  as  Kant  said;  or  in  the  lines  of 

Emerson ; — 

"So  nigh  is  grandeur  to  our  dust, 

So  near  is  God  to  man, 
When  duty  whispers  low,  Thou  must, 
The  youth  replies,  /  can." 

But  the  demands  of  moral  obligation  cannot  be  fulfilled  in 
this  life.  There  must  therefore  be  a  future  life.  However, 
a  future  life  of  limited  duration  would  not  answer.  In  such 
a  life,  as  one  further  advanced  in  efficiency  and  service,  his  un- 
fulfilled duty  would  still  further  and  further  widen  out  before 
him.  Man  must  therefore  be  immortal,  and  continually  pro- 
gress toward  the  accomplishment  of  a  duty  that  as  constantly 
increases.  Man  has  an  infinite  task  to  perform,  and  it  will 
take  him  all  eternity  to  fulfil  it.  But  such  an  eternal  progress 
in  the  direction  of  an  ever  receding  goal  hardly  seems  to  us 
like  accomplishment.  It  can  only  be  so  regarded  from  the 
standpoint  of  an  eternal  Mind,  an  intelligence  to  whom  past, 
present  and  future  are  an  "everlasting  Now."  Even  to  our 
finite  minds,  a  brief  succession  of  events,  lasting  a  few  seconds, 
appears  to  take  place  in  a  moment,  to  be  now.  To  an  Intel- 
ligence, who  both  knows  the  future  and  is  able  to  grasp  all  fu- 
ture, present,  and  past  events  in  a  single  span  of  time,  the 


348  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

eternal  progress  of  man  in  the  direction  of  perfect  fulfilment 
of  duty  would  itself  be  accomplishment.  To  such  a  Being, 
therefore,  man  would  actually  succeed  in  performing  his  duty. 
Moreover,  such  a  Being,  with  an  infinite  Mind,  would  see  things 
as  they  really  are.  Such  an  infinite  progress  would  in  reality 
be  as  it  appears  to  such  a  Mind,  a  fulfilment.  It  is  not  such  a 
Being,  but  we,  with  our  limited  intelligence,  who  are  deceived 
by  an  imperfect  understanding  of  the  nature  of  time. 

Therefore,  if  moral  obligation  or  duty,  really  is  what  it  ap- 
pears to  be,  a  command  to  be  absolutely  just  and  holy,  to  ac- 
complish to  the  full  all  our  possibilities  of  service,  and  to  real- 
ize all  our  capacities  to  the  utmost,  it  means  that  man  is  im- 
mortal and  that  there  is  a  God.  In  the  experience  of  the  call 
of  duty  man  has  a  precious  assurance  of  endless  life  and  of 
divine  support.  A  lazy  soul  might  be  discouraged  at  the  pros- 
pect of  an  endless  task,  and  become  pessimistic,  but  more  active 
spirits  must  rejoice.  For  the  rewards  in  life  come,  not  in  the 
mere  having  of  things  or  the  gaining  of  goals,  but  in  the  joy 
of  work  and  the  consciousness  of  accomplishment.  To  the  right 
minded  man,  therefore,  there  is  every  reason  for  joy  in  the 
consciousness  that  his  task  is  infinite,  and  that  in  this  task  he  is 
accomplishing  the  work  that  God  has  given  him  to  do,  5. 

(3) — The  Happiness  Argument 

In  a  completely  moral  universe,  it  would  seem  that  possession 
of  happiness  ought  to  be  proportionate  to  fidelity  to  duty. 
Although  few  persons  probably  think  that  considerations  of 
one's  personal  happiness  should  serve  as  the  sole  standard  of 
duty,  almost  everyone  believes  that  those  who  do  their  duty 
in  life,  as  faithfully  as  they  can,  deserve  to  be  happy.  How- 
ever, no  one  needs  wide  experience  to  be  aware  that  virtuous 
people  often  suffer  unmerited  misfortune  of  all  kinds,  while 
wicked  men  often  undeservedly  prosper.  It  is  accordingly 
urged  that  there  must  be  a  future  existence  in  which  the  wrongs 
of  this  world  are  righted,  and  virtue  and  vice  receive  their 
deserts.  Moreover,  as  there  is  no  inevitable  necessity  that  con- 
nects the  attainment  of  virtue  with  happiness  in  this  life,  the 
mere  continuation  of  these  in  another  life  would  not  guarantee 
the  ultimate  fulfilment  of  justice.  Consequently  there  must  be 
a  God  who  as  Judge,  by  an  act  of  arbitrary  volition  ultimately 
will  effect  a  union  between  virtue  and  happiness.  Thus  an 


MORAL  ARGUMENTS  349 

argument  both  for  God  and  a  future  life  are  afforded  by  the 
consideration  of  the  serious  disparity  between  virtue  and  hap- 
piness which  we  see  everywhere  about  us. 

This  argument  is  offered  to  the  reader  for  whatever  he  may 
think  it  worth.  Frankly  speaking,  the  author  does  not  con- 
sider it  nearly  so  convincing  as  either  of  the  other  two  moral 
arguments  that  have  been  mentioned,  neither  of  which  is  in 
any  way  dependent  upon  this  one.  Both  of  the  other  argu- 
ments can  be  employed  either  for  an  external  or  for  an  imman- 
ent God.  This  argument  has  weight  chiefly  with  believers  in 
an  external  God;  it  would  be  difficult  to  state  it  in  terms  of 
divine  immanence.  This  argument,  too,  suggests  less  developed 
ethical  rewards  to  the  doers  of  good.  Virtue,  it  might  seem, 
is  its  own  reward.  Moreover,  this  argument  has  to  assume  a 
completely  moral  universe.  The  other  arguments  which  we 
have  considered  merely  have  to  maintain  that  the  universe 
strives  toward  teleological  and  moral  ends ;  they  are  not  neces- 
sarily committed  to  the  claim  that  it  invariably  attains  them. 
There  is  much  in  the  world  that  appears  contrary  to  teleology 
and  moral  purposiveness.  If  this  is  a  universe  in  which  good 
is  only  gradually  coming  to  prevail,  the  evils  and  injustices  of 
the  world  may  be  indications  that  the  world  is  not  perfect. 

It  must  accordingly  be  confessed  that  this  argument  is  not 
without  its  difficulties.  However,  it  would  appear  to  have  co- 
gency for  those  who  believe  that  the  universe  is  absolutely,  and 
not  merely  approximately  just,  in  its  constitution — such  a 
universe  must  assuredly  be  governed  by  an  absolutely  powerful 
and  righteous  God.  It  may  also  be  observed  that  the  concep- 
tion that  every  action  must  ultimately  be  rewarded  according 
to  its  merits,  in  a  future  life  if  not  in  this,  has  appealed  to 
many  of  the  profound  moral  thinkers  of  the  world.  We  have 
seen  its  expression  in  the  thought  of  India  in  the  law  of  Karma. 
The  idea  exerted  a  powerful  influence  in  ancient  Egypt,  cor- 
rupted though  it  was  with  magical  conceptions  in  the  Book  of 
the  Dead.  Plato  maintained  the  conception,  and  partly 
through  his  influence  there  passed  into  Jewish  as  well  as  into 
Christian  thought  the  principle  that  conduct  must  be  rewarded 
according  to  its  merits  in  a  future  life  by  the  judgment  of  God. 

In  addition  to  the  foregoing  arguments  for  the  existence  of 
God,  there  are  other  arguments  advanced  by  philosophers  of 
particular  schools  which  have  considerable  influence.  It 
will  of  course  be  impossible  to  notice  all  of  these  arguments, 


350  EVIDENCE,  OF  GOD 

or  all  of  the  various  schools.  The  three  schools  of  philosophy 
that  have  most  influence  today,  at  least  in  the  English  speaking 
world,  are  the  idealists,  the  pragmatists,  and  the  new  realists. 

4s — Idealistic  Arguments 

It  will  be  impossible  to  do  justice  to  the  idealistic  arguments 
for  God  in  an  introductory  volume  that  is  not  devoted  almost 
exclusively  to  the  exposition  of  some  system  of  idealism.  Cer- 
tain idealistic  arguments  can  only  be  hinted  at  here,  and  refer- 
ences given  to  standard  authorities  for  those  who  care  to  read 
further. 

There  are  numerous  forms  of  idealism.  There  are  two 
general  types  current  today,  of  which  most  contemporary 
systems  are  varieties.  These  are  known  as  Mentalism  and 
Speculative  Idealism.  (They  are  sometimes  respectively  called 
"Subjective"  and  "Objective"  Idealism;  but  these  designations 
are  unfair,  and  tend  to  create  a  prejudice  in  favor  of  the 
latter.) 

( 1 )  — Mentalism 

George  Berkeley  (f!753)  in  two  brilliant  youthful  essays  (6) 
that  remain  superior  in  merit  as  literature  to  any  other  tech- 
nical philosophical  writings  in  the  English  language,  argued 
that  reality  wholly  consists  of  ideas  that  pass  through  minds, 
and  of  the  minds  that  know  these  ideas.  Wherever  you  perceive 
any  object,  say  an  apple,  you  are  aware  of  the  apple  and  of 
yourself  as  perceiving  it.  Modern  scientists  already  had  dis- 
tinguished between  the  primary  qualities  that  really  exist  in 
things — such  as  shape,  size,  solidity,  motion,  and  number, — 
and  secondary  qualities  —  like  color,  sound,  odor,  taste,  and 
temperature — that  do  not  in  reality  exist  in  the  outer  world, 
but  only  in  our  minds.  Berkeley  showed  that  the  same  objec- 
tions apply  to  the  supposition  that  the  primary  qualities  exist 
independent  of  minds  that  hold  in  the  case  of  the  secondary 
qualities.  Both  kinds  of  qualities  vary  at  different  times,  and 
give  rise  to  illusions.  Analyze  any  object  whatever,  say  an 
apple,  and  you  will  find  that  it  wholly  consists  of  different  sen- 
sations of  color,  taste,  odor,  solidity,  temperature,  etc.  It  is 
really  mental  in  its  constitution.  Now  some  of  our  ideas  are 
due  to  the  activity  of  our  own  minds, — those  of  fancy — such 
ideas  we  have  created  and  can  alter  at  will.  Other  of  our  ideas 
— those  that  constitute  the  outer  world  of  real  things,  as  we 


IDEALISM  351 

say, — we  perceive  through  our  senses,  involuntarily.  To  what 
cause  shall  we  attribute  these  involuntary  ideas?  Are  they  due 
to  matter,  as  materialists  and  atheists  say, — something  that 
nobody  ever  perceived?  Is  it  not  far  more  reasonable  to  attrib- 
ute our  ideas  of  the  external  world  to  a  Mind  somewhat  like 
our  own  ?  Such  ideas  are  due  to  something  external  to  our  own 
experience — either  material  or  mental.  It  is  more  reasonable 
to  attribute  them  to  the  known  than  to  the  unknown,  to  another 
Mind  than  to  matter.  And  since  we  all  experience  a  common 
world,  composed  of  the  same  objects,  the  same  Mind  must  be 
the  common  cause  of  all  our  ideas  of  the  external  world.  The 
so-called  uniformity  of  nature  is  the  regular  manner  in  which 
God  imparts  the  same  ideas  under  the  same  conditions.  There 
is  no  matter ;  what  we  call  matter  is  the  system  of  ideas  which 
God  imparts  to  us  all  in  a  uniform  way. 

This  form  of  idealism,  which  has  possibly  been  stated  a  little 
more  consistently  than  Berkeley  put  it  himself,  is  now  some- 
times called  Mentalism.  Those  who  hold  it  today  usually  mod- 
ify it  by  accepting  Kant's  doctrine  that  the  mind  in  a  sense 
constitutes  the  objects  which  it  perceives.  Modern  psychology 
is  claimed  to  be  confirmative  of  Kant's  position  on  this  point. 
In  perceiving  any  object,  the  various  sensations  belong  in  a 
whole  and  constitute  an  object,  and  this  object  is  interpreted 
in  the  light  of  past  experience.  As  one  looks  at  an  apple  across 
the  room  one  surely  perceives  it  as  solid  and  as  having  a  cer- 
tain taste,  as  if  he  were  actually  handling  and  tasting  it;  his 
mind  interprets  his  sensations  of  vision  in  the  light  of  his  past 
experience,  and  this  interpretation  is  part  of  the  immediate 
perception  of  an  object. 

In  like  manner  every  object  of  the  outer  world  that  we  ex- 
perience has  been  made  an  object  by  the  construction  of  our 
minds.  But  not  of  our  minds  only.  We  live  in  a  social  world. 
Other  persons  experience  the  same  objects  as  we.  If  two  per- 
sons dispute  about  the  nature  of  an  object,  they  are  not  dis- 
puting about  their  own  personal,  subjective  impressions  about 
the  object,  they  are  disputing  about  what  they  think  that  the 
object  really  is.  So  we  evidently  live  in  a  common  world;  the 
objects  that  your  and  my  minds  have  constructed  must  agree. 
If  they  do  not  appear  to  do  so,  one  of  us  is  in  error.  But  this 
means  that  you  and  I  somehow  share  in  the  experience  of 
a  common  mind, — God.  If  we  did  not  share  in  the  thoughts 


352  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

of  such  a  common  mind  we  could  not  agree  with  one  another, 
we  could  not  even  disagree.  As  separate  individuals  you  and 
I  never  perceive  any  of  the  contents  of  each  other's  minds ;  we 
can  only  perceive  each  other's  bodies.  We  can  never  get  inside 
each  other's  minds  at  all.  Yet  we  do  communicate ;  we  are  able 
to  disagree,  and  if  we  are  fairly  reasonable  and  good  natured 
folk,  we  can  sometimes  even  agree  with  each  other.  Conse- 
quently it  must  be  that  in  reality  our  minds  are  not  sundered 
as  in  appearance  they  seem  to  be.  In  reality  we  share,  however 
imperfectly,  in  the  mind  of  God.  The  assumption  of  God  is 
therefore  necessary  in  order  to  explain  the  possibility  of  com- 
mon knowledge  on  the  part  of  different  individuals,  7. 

The  conception  of  God  is  also  necessary  to  account  for 
mutual  sympathy  and  understanding,  for  common  recognition 
of  standards  of  goodness,  truth,  and  beauty,  and  for  united 
effort  in  the  formation  and  realization  of  common  ideals.  Men- 
talism,  in  its  contemporary  forms,  does  not  claim  that  inorganic 
nature  exists  merely  as  ideas  in  the  minds  of  individuals,  as 
Berkeley  thought,  but  that  it  consists  of  individuals  who  are 
conscious  but  whose  inner  life  and  consciousness  are  so  wholly 
different  from  ours  that  we  cannot  communicate  with  them, — . 
a  fact  which  explains  why  we  imagine  them  to  be  without  con-> 
sciousness  at  all,  8. 

(2) — Speculative  Idealism 

Speculative  idealism  (9)  which  has  its  ancestry  in  Hegel 
(1*1831), — unlike  mentalism,  with  which  it  is  often  confused 
even  by  its  advocates — does  not  maintain  that  everything,  as 
a  separate  object,  is  either  conscious  (or  sub-conscious)  or  an 
idea  in  some  conscious  mind.  Many  things,  taken  by  them- 
selves, are  not  alive  or  conscious  at  all ;  in  fact,  this  is  true  of 
the  great  bulk  of  the  material  of  which  the  world  consists.  For 
the  purposes  of  such  a  science  as  physics  it  is  quite  proper  to 
study  the  material  aspects  of  all  objects  in  exclusion  from  the 
other  aspects  that  some  objects  also  have;  this  is  one  plane  of 
existence.  For  other  purposes,  material  objects  must  be  re- 
garded from  the  plane  of  chemistry ;  viewed  on  this  plane  more 
qualities  of  objects  are  disclosed.  Biology  discloses  more 
characteristics  still,  of  such  objects  that  appear  on  its  plane. 
Animals  that  are  conscious  belong  on  the  psychological  plane, 
also.  And  some  objects  are  also  to  be  found  on  the  planes 
of  aesthetics,  ethics,  and  so  on.  Each  plane  is  an  aspect  of 


IDEALISM  353 

reality,  and  true  so  far  as  it  goes;  none  is  the  whole  truth. 

Moreover  each  level  takes  on  additional  significance  when 
its  connection  with  other  levels  is  considered.  Nothing — not 
even  the  entire  material  side  of  the  universe — can  be  fully  un- 
derstood when  taken  by  itself.  Everything  has  to  be  studied 
in  the  light  of  the  whole  to  which  it  belongs.  The  inorganic 
universe,  as  studied  by  astronomy,  physics,  chemistry  and  geo- 
logy, is  only  one  side  of  the  whole  of  Reality.  It  belongs  in 
a  whole  which  includes  organisms.  Neither  inorganic  nor 
organic  nature  is  a  complete  system;  each  implies  the  other. 
Moreover,  it  is  impossible  to  understand  the  rest  of  the  uni- 
verse in  separation  from  man  with  his  awareness  of  secondary 
qualities,  with  his  ability  to  reason,  with  his  insights  into  good- 
ness and  beauty.  That  man  cannot  be  understood  apart  from 
the  earthly  environment  in  which  he  has  appeared,  everyone 
will  admit.  The  speculative  idealists  maintain  that  the  opposite 
is  equally  true.  The  meaning  of  the  earthly  environment  can- 
not be  understood  apart  from  man.  Man  is  organic  to  the 
world;  through  man  the  world  reasons,  appreciates  its  values 
of  beauty  and  morality,  and  other  of  its  meanings,  and  so  comes 
to  consciousness  of  itself. 

Now,  if  we  think  of  the  world  as  a  whole  as  thus  having 
meaning,  that  each  part  of  it  is  in  a  system  with  the  rest,  that 
man,  and  the  values  man  recognizes  and  appreciates,  are  a 
significant  part  of  this  whole,  we  are  led  logically  to  a  belief 
in  God.  The  world  as  a  whole,  on  this  view,  is  a  system ;  it  is 
infinite  and  self-determined,  since  there  is  nothing  outside  of 
the  whole  universe  that  could  limit  or  condition  it  in  any  way. 
In  this  sense  the  world  as  a  whole  is  Absolute — i.  e.,  uncondi- 
tioned, infinite,  self-determined,  self-sufficient.  In  the  Abso- 
lute, as  thus  conceived,  everything  has  its  place.  In  it  all  the 
different  planes  of  existence,  described  by  the  different  sciences, 
have  their  ultimate  meaning  and  value.  The  Absolute  is  the 
only  complete  Individual  or  Person,  since  to  be  an  individual 
and  to  have  personality  mean  to  be  self-determined,  and  not 
to  be  the  product  of  external  conditions  and  circumstances. 
Since  spiritual  values,  such  as  goodness,  truth,  and  beauty,  do 
exist  in  man,  and  he  is  an  organic  part  of  the  world,  these 
values  have  their  place  in  the  Absolute.  All  that  is  valuable  in 
the  universe  is  conserved  in  the  Absolute. 

The  God  of  religious  worship  has  to  be  conceived  in  a  more 
intimate  and  human  way  than  the  philosopher  describes  the 


354  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

Absolute;  the  God  of  religion  is,  however,  a  closer  approxima- 
tion to  the  Absolute  than  is  any  other  partial  conception  of  it, 
far  closer  than  any  of  the  conceptions  with  which  sciences  deal. 
Religious  worship  is  therefore  justified,  especially  if  God  is 
conceived  as  immanent.  In  the  opinion  of  the  author,  all  the 
forms  of  prayer  which  were  found  to  be  efficacious  in  Chapter 
XVI,  together  with  the  milder  form  of  mysticism  described  in 
Chapter  XVII,  and  the  various  forms  of  awakening  of  the 
religious  sentiment  studied  in  Chapter  XV,  may  be  interpreted 
by  the  religious  believer  who  accepts  speculative  idealism  as 
different  ways  in  which  a  man  becomes  self-conscious  of  the 
Absolute  in  the  imagery  of  his  own  religious  faith. 

Speculative  idealism  thus  approaches  the  problem  of  God  in 
its  own  way.  It  claims  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  prove 
the  existence  of  God  by  a  series  of  propositions,  such  as  those 
in  a  geometrical  theorem,  or  by  a  resort  to  causal  reasoning, 
such  as  saying  that  since  everything  has  a  cause  prior  to  it, 
there  ultimately  must  be  a  First  Cause  that  causes  everything 
else,  but  is  itself  uncaused.  For  this  type  of  philosophy  there 
can  be  no  self-evident  axiom  or  postulate  which  can  be  taken 
for  granted,  and  from  which  the  existence  of  God  can  be 
proved.  The  axiom  itself  would  have  to  be  proved  in  its  turn, 
and  so  on  infinitely.  And  you  can  never  find  a  cause  which 
must  not  be  regarded  as  the  effect  of  something  else ;  the  child 
is  quite  right  in  asking  in  objection  to  such  reasoning,  "Who 
made  God?"  One  must  not  ask  for  the  logical  grounds  or 
causes  of  things ;  or  how  they  came  into  existence,  if  one  wishes 
to  be  a  speculative  philosopher.  That  is  putting  the  question 
the  wrong  way.  One  must,  on  the  contrary,  ask  why  things 
are,  what  are  they  for,  what  is  their  meaning,  their  value,  their 
significance. 

Study  the  nature  of  anything  whatsoever,  what  it  means, 
what  its  relations  are  to  other  things,  and  you  will  ultimately 
perceive  that  it  belongs  in  a  systematic  self-determining,  spir- 
itual whole, — the  Absolute.  The  truth  of  speculative  philo- 
sophy is  shown,  so  its  adherents  claim,  by  its  internal  consist- 
ency as  an  account  of  the  world  as  a  whole,  its  comprehensive- 
ness and  its  coherence.  The  system  fits  together,  it  is  reason- 
able, and  therefore  it  is  convincing.  Hindu  mythology  said 
that  the  earth  was  supported  on  the  back  of  an  elephant,  and 
that  the  elephant  was  held  up  by  a  tortoise,  but  it  could  not 
explain  what  kept  the  tortoise  from  falling.  That  was  the 


PRAGMATISM  355 

wrong  mode  of  explanation.  Modern  astronomers  say  that 
the  earth  is  held  in  its  orbit  by  the  other  celestial  bodies  and 
that  it  assists  in  keeping  each  of  them  in  its  position  as  well. 
No  heavenly  body  is  at  the  bottom  and  holds  the  others  up; 
they  all  belong  in  a  self -maintaining  system.  So  it  is  with  the 
speculative  philosophy;  it  is  a  coherent  whole,  and  the  truth 
of  each  detail  in  the  system  is  seen  in  the  light  of  the  system  in 
its  entirety.  To  know  anything  thoroughly  means  to  see  it 
in  relation  to  Reality  as  a  whole,  which  includes  God.  The 
position  is  well  expressed  in  Tennyson's  lines: 

"Flower  in  the  crannied  wall, 
I  pluck  you  out  of  the  crannies, 
I  hold  you  here,  root  and  all,  in  my  hand, 
Little  flower — but  if  I  could  understand 
What  you  are,  root  and  all,  and  all  in  all, 
I  should  know  what  God  and  man  is." 


5 — Pragmatic  Arguments. 

The  majority  of  philosophers  in  Great  Britain  and  America 
today  as  elsewhere  in  the  world,  are  probably  in  one  or  another 
sense,  idealists.  Two  movements  in  opposition  to  idealism 
have  arisen,  however,  during  the  past  generation,  each  of  which 
has  numerous  adherents.  These  are  Pragmatism  and  the  New 
Realism.  Pragmatism,  slightly  the  elder  of  the  two  in  point 
of  time,  is  a  doctrine  of  peculiar  interest  to  Americans,  for  the 
reason  that  it  originated  in  the  United  States.  This  doctrine, 
which  was  made  famous  by  William  James,  is  based  chiefly  on 
two  fundamental  positions,  a  method  of  investigation,  and  a 
theory  of  the  nature  of  truth.  The  method  of  investigation  is, 
that  any  idea,  belief,  theory,  hypothesis  or  doctrine  should  be 
tested  by  the  practical  consequences  that  follow  from  accept- 
ing it  and  acting  upon  it.  This  has  come  to  be  known  as  the 
"pragmatic  test"  of  truth.  If  a  theory  is  true,  it  will  work 
out  in  practice;  if  it  cannot  be  made  to  work  practically,  it  is 
not  true.  James,  who  occasionally  made  rather  reckless  state- 
ments, sometimes  gave  the  impression  that  according  to  prag- 
matism, any  idea  whatever  that  brings  satisfactory  conse- 
quences is  true.  If  the  maid  can  make  her  mistress  believe  that 
the  cat  broke  the  tea  cup,  it  is  true  that  the  cat  broke  it.  If 
it  gives  men  more  pleasant  emotions  to  believe  that  there  is  a 
God,  why  there  is  one.  James,  of  course,  did  not  mean  to 
assert  such  absurdities  as  these.  What  careful  pragmatists 


356  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

mean  to  assert  as  constituting  what  Professor  D.  C.  Macintosh 
discriminatingly  calls  "essential  pragmatism,"  10,  is  that  the 
supreme  test  of  the  truth  of  a  proposition  is  observation  of  the 
practical  consequences  that  logically  follow  from  its  accept- 
ance; it  is  verified,  if  action  upon  it  is  followed  by  the  conse- 
quences that  could  reasonably  be  expected  to  follow.  This, 
known  as  the  "pragmatic  test"  of  truth,  is  agreed  by  most 
philosophers  of  all  schools  to  be  a  good,  practical  test  of  truth ; 
but  only  pragmatists  make  it  the  final  and  supreme  test. 

The  pragmatistic  theory  of  the  nature  of  truth  is  far  more 
radical.  This  Professor  Macintosh  calls  "hyper-pragmatism," 
11.  This  doctrine  is,,  that  truth  is  not  merely  tested  by,  but 
actually  consists  of,  the  practical  consequences  that  follow  from 
the  acceptance  of  a  proposition  when  these  are  what  would  be 
logically  expected. 

As  we  are  concerned  with  arguments  for  the  existence  of 
God,  and  not  with  the  merits  of  Pragmatism  in  general,  it  will 
be  impossible  here  to  enter  into  a  discussion  of  the  merits  of 
the  doctrine  of  the  nature  of  truth  affirmed  by  "hyper-pragma- 
tism," nor  of  the  doctrine  of  "essential  pragmatism"  that  the 
pragmatic  method  is  the  supreme  method  of  investigating 
truth.  The  argument  for  God,  now  to  be  stated,  merely  em- 
ploys the  pragmatic  method,  which  nearly  every  one  admits  to 
be  at  least  one  good,  practical  method  of  investigation. 

The  hypothesis  of  God  (not  in  the  sense  of  speculative  ideal- 
ism which  James  rejected,  possibly  because  he  never  fully  un- 
derstood it,  but  in  the  sense  of  an  external  God)  James  found 
to  meet  the  pragmatic  test  successfully.  His  study  of  the 
various  forms  of  religious  experience, — continuous  growth 
("healthy-mindedness"  as  he  called  it),  conversion,  saintliness, 
and  mysticism — led  him  to  conclude  that  "the  conscious  person 
is  continuous  with  a  wider  self  through  which,  saving  experi- 
ences come,  a  positive  content  of  religious  experience  which  it 
seems  to  me,  is  literally  and  objectively  true  as  far  as  it  goes." 
He  quotes,  with  apparent  approval,  the  assertion  of  W.  C. 
Brownell  that  "the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  exquisitely 
called  the  Comforter,  is  a  matter  of  actual  experience,  as  solid 
a  reality  as  that  of  electro-magnetism."  To  act  on  the  hypo- 
thesis of  God  thus  does  work,  and  its  validity  is  confirmed  in 
the  actual  experience  of  the  believer,  12. 

This  pragmatic  argument,  based  upon  the  fact  that  the 
acceptance  of  God  leads  to  desirable  consequences  in  the  life 


PRAGMATISM  357 

of  the  individual,  James  presented  in  an  ingenious  form  in  one 
of  his  earliest  essays,  "Reflex  Action  and  Theism,"  an  argument 
for  belief  in  God  as  a  personal  power,  "which  not  only  makes 
for  righteousness,  but  means  it  and  recognizes  us."  "Not  an 
energy  of  our  active  nature  to  which  it  does  not  authoritatively 
appeal,  not  an  emotion  of  which  it  does  not  normally  and  nat- 
urally release  the  springs.  At  a  single  stroke,  it  changes  the 
dead  blank  it  of  the  world  into  a  living  thou,  with  whom  the 
whole  man  may  have  dealings,"  13.  Such  a  belief  leads  to  the 
quickening  of  human  powers,  and  furthers  their  development. 
Other  beliefs  as  to  the  nature  of  the  universe,  such  as  atheistic 
materialism  and  the  sort  of  pantheism  that  makes  God  indif- 
ferent to  distinctions  between  good  and  evil,  weaken  man's 
resolution.  There  can  be  no  question  that  belief  in  the  right 
sort  of  a  God  stimulates  man  to  do  his  best. 

Is  it  possible  to  restate  James'  last  mentioned  argument  for 
such  a  Being,  without  basing  it  upon  the  hyper-pragmatistic 
theory  of  the  nature  of  truth?  In  the  author's  opinion,  Yes. 
Man  is  placed  in  a  real  environment,  not  an  imaginary  one. 
If  there  were  no  Being  in  man's  environment,  to  which  the  con- 
ception of  God  in  some  measure  corresponded,  man  would  not 
best  succeed  in  adjusting  himself  to  his  environment  by  belief 
in  God ;  such  a  belief  in  that  case  would  be  entirely  quixotic 
in  its  effects  on  human  conduct.  But  the  opposite  is  the  fact. 
Therefore,  there  is  a  God.  To  be  sure,  our  idea  of  God  may 
not  be  very  adequate.  It  may  be  as  imperfect  as  the  concep- 
tions which  we  might  imagine  that  the  tiny  inhabitants  of  a 
pool  of  water  have  of  us.  But  every  philosophical  believer  in  God 
is  ready  to  admit  that  our  conceptions  of  Him  are  symbolical. 
,The  fact  that  the  conception  does  work  in  human  experience, 
that  it  does  enable  men  to  conform  to  the  requirements  of  the 
world  in  which  they  are  placed,  and  to  achieve  a  fuller  life,  is 
evidence  for  the  contention  that  the  conception  is  not  an  illu- 
sion, but  that,  however  inadequate  it  may  be,  it  is  at  least 
symbolical  of  ultimate  reality. 

While,  in  the  author's  opinion  at  least,  the  drift  of  prag- 
matism is  in  the  direction  of  belief  in  God,  it  must  be  admitted 
that  a  decided  antagonism  to  teleological  arguments  of  every 
kind,  and  a  complete  and  almost  ominous  silence  on  the  subject 
of  God  are  characteristic  of  writings  of  certain  prominent 
pragmatists.  However,  the  author  knows  of  no  pragmatist 
who  has  explicitly  rejected  the  belief  in  God  in  his  writings. 


358  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

14.  Certain  pragmatists  write  in  a  manner  that  sometimes 
seems  to  adherents  of  other  schools  to  imply  that  in  their  opin- 
ion God  is  purely  a  projection  from  human  experience  and 
needs,  and  in  no  sense  exists  independently.  The  author  is  not 
certain,  however,  that  such  pragmatists  are  correctly  under- 
stood by  their  non-pragmatistic  readers  and  critics.  Prag- 
matists who  deny  that  there  is  any  reality,  whatever,  outside 
of  experience  cannot  be  expected  to  affirm  the  existence  of  God 
outside  of  experience.  When  such  a  pragmatist  earnestly 
affirms  the  necessity,  validity,  and  constant  growth  of  the  con- 
ception of  God  within  experience,  he  attributes  to  God  as  much, 
and  very  likely  more,  validity  than  he  assigns  to  any  other 
conception.  He  is  therefore  consistent  in  advising  the  layman 
tc  pray  and  to  cultivate  other  forms  of  religious  experience 
in  the  confidence  that  they  are  valid  in  the  sense  that  other 
beliefs  are  valid,  15. 

6 — The  New  Realism  and  God 

The  new  realism  has  been  making  rapid  strides,  during  the 
two  decades  of  its  existence,  among  professional  philosophers. 
Few  of  its  representatives  have  as  yet  made  popular  statements 
of  their  beliefs ;  and,  as  a  rule,  each  new  technical  treatise  by 
a  new  realist  discloses  the  fact  that  his  opinions  on  many  sub- 
jects have  greatly  altered  since  his  last  publication.  No  doubt 
this  is  an  indication  of  healthy  growth.  But  it  renders  the 
attempt  to  make  the  new  realism  clear  to  a  beginner  almost 
hopeless,  especially  in  regard  to  belief  in  God  and  other  matters 
of  religious  faith, — topics  on  which  comparatively  few  of  the 
school  have  as  yet  definitely  committed  themselves. 

Naive  realism  is  the  view  of  the  plain  man,  who  supposes 
that  objects  exist  independent  of  him,  regardless  of  whether 
any  one  perceives  them  or  in  any  way  thinks  of  them.  The 
apple  exists,  and  is  red,  slightly  sour,  sweet,  and  solid,  whether 
any  mind  in  the  universe  takes  notice  of  it  or  not.  Scientific 
realism  maintains  that  the  primary  qualities  of  matter  exist 
independent  of  human  minds ;  for  it  the  apple  of  the  plain  man 
becomes  atoms  and  molecules  in  motion,  or  electric  charges. 
The  new  realists  are  not  quite  certain  whether  to  side  with  the 
naive  or  the  scientific  realist;  they  would  like  to  show,  if  pos- 
sible, that  both  are  in  some  sense  right.  Numbers,  and  all 
mathematical  and  logical  principles,  exist  independent  of  minds, 
and  of  all  events  that  go  on  in  the  world  process ;  they  subsist 


THE  NEW  REALISM  359 

as  eternal  essences  or  entities.  7  plus  5  equals  12  whether 
any  one  knows  it,  or  thinks  of  it,  or  not.  The  same  is  true 
of  the  higher  numbers  that  no  one  yet  has  ever  counted,  and 
of  the  undiscovered  fields  of  higher  mathematics.  Whether 
moral  axioms  also  (like  those  of  justice,  benevolence  and  equity) 
subsist  eternally,  apart  from  minds,  is  a  disputed  point  among 
the  new  realists  themselves.  The  philosophical  position  to 
which  the  new  realism  is  completely  in  opposition  is  mentalism. 
It  is  opposed  to  the  pragmatists  upon  the  nature  of  truth; 
and,  since  the  eternal  essences  are  valid  independent  of  time, 
the  pragmatic  test  of  truth  interests  it  little.  In  opposition 
to  speculative  idealism,  the  new  realists  affirm  the  doctrine  of 
the  "externality  of  relations."  For  the  speculative  idealist, 
reality  is  an  organic  whole,  and  nothing  can  be  understood 
completely  without  taking  into  account  its  relations  to  every- 
thing else;  this  is  the  "internality  of  relations."  On  the  con- 
trary, the  new  realist  defends  analysis,  and  believes  that  he 
can  isolate  an  object  and  study  it  by  itself;  its  relations  to 
other  things  are  external.  For  instance,  if  you  take  a  book 
down  from  the  shelf  and  place  it  upon  the  table,  it  is  the  same 
book;  its  relations  to  shelf  and  table  are  external  and  do  not 
affect  its  real  nature.  Consciousness,  too,  is  external;  objects 
can  pass  in  and  out  of  all  minds  unaltered. 

As  will  be  observed,  the  issues  with  which  the  new  realism 
has  chiefly  been  concerned  bear  no  obvious  relation  to  religious 
beliefs.  Consequently  it  is  probably  merely  a  matter  of  chance 
that  certain  initiators  of  the  movement  happened  to  be  antag- 
onistic to  religious  beliefs  of  the  traditional  sort.  For  in- 
stance, while  Mr.  Bertrand  Russell,  one  of  the  most  famous  of 
the  school,  restricts  religion  to  the  limited  sphere  permitted 
by  scientific  materialism,  16,  this  position,  as  Professor  R.  F. 
A.  Hoernle  points  out,  has  "no  point  of  contact  whatever  with 
his  Realism  in  theory  of  knowledge,"  17.  Professor  R.  W. 
Sellars,  18,  an  American  writer  who  in  many  respects  is  to  be 
classified  with  the  new  realists,  does  not  bring  the  conception  of 
God  into  his  description  of  the  "humanist's  religion"  which  he 
advocates. 

Professor  E.  G.  Spaulding,  on  the  other  hand,  believes  in 
God.  In  his  opinion,  for  the  new  realism,  "God  is  the  totality 
of  values;"  He  is  "justice  and  truth  and  beauty,  both  as  these 
are  'above*  our  world  and  as  they  are  in  it ;"  "He  is  thus  both 
transcendent  and  immanent,"  19.  Professor  Spaulding  af- 


360  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

firms  his  belief  in  "a  Power  for  good  that  works  not  only  side 
by  side  with  man,  but  also  in  him  and  through  him,  flowering 
in  that  freedom  which  is  given  to  his  reason  to  get  at  truth,  to 
his  emotions  to  love  the  beautiful,  the  good,  and  the  true,  and 
detest  the  ugly,  the  evil,  and  the  false,  and  to  his  will  and  man- 
hood to  engage  in  the  struggle,"  20.  Professor  S.  Alexander, 
whose  Gifford  Lectures,  entitled  Space,  Time  and  Deity  is  the 
most  complete  metaphysical  treatise  that  has  yet  been  published 
by  a  new  realist,  arrives  at  the  affirmation  of  the  existence 
of  God,  with  most  of  the  philosophical  attributes  usually  recog- 
nized. Whether  his  reasoning  on  matters  of  religion  will  be 
acceptable  to  the  younger  and  more  radical  neo-realists  re- 
mains to  be  seen. 

It  can  at  least  be  affirmed  that  the  new  realists  are  not  mater- 
ialists or  mechanists.  Some  of  them  are  eloquent  in  asserting 
that  we  can  and  should  devote  ourselves  wholeheartedly  to  en- 
deavors for  the  betterment  of  humanity,  and  that  we  live  in  a 
universe  where  moral  aims  are  attainable.  The  argument  of 
Professor  Hobhouse,  in  his  Development  and  Purpose  (21)  may 
be  expected  to  have  weight  with  the  new  realists,  who  have  much 
in  common  with  him.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  this  argument  does 
seen  to  have  impressed  Professor  R.  B.  Perry,  22,  in  whose  writ- 
ings the  claims  of  religion  are  taken  into  consideration,  23,  but 
who  has  not  yet  made  it  certain  whether  and  to  what  extent 
he  is  ready  to  give  the  belief  in  God  a  place  in  his  metaphysical 
system.  Some  of  the  great  figures  in  the  history  of  philosophy, 
with  which  the  new  realism  has  most  in  common,  like  Plato, 
Thomas  Aquinas,  Leibnitz  and  Reid  have  been  defenders,  of 
the  belief  in  God. 

HI — Arguments  Against  Belief  in  God 

The  chief  objections  to  belief  in  God  come  either  from  the 
side  of  Atheism,  which  maintains  that  there  is  no  God,  or  of 
Agnosticism,  which  maintains  that  the  question  of  the  exist- 
ence of  God  is  impossible  of  solution.  Sometimes  arguments 
are  advanced  by  writers  who  do  not  clearly  decide  whether  they 
prefer  agnosticism  or  atheism,  or  some  conception  of  God  that 
would  practically  exclude  worship  of  Him. 

1 — Atheistic  Arguments 

Arguments  for  mechanism,  or  for  a  teleology  without  a  God, 
are  really  arguments  for  atheism.  These  have  already  been 
considered,  24,  as  has  also  the  contention  that  the  conception  of 


ATHEISM  361 

God  should  be  rejected  because  it  is  anthropomorphic.  These 
are  the  chief  arguments  for  atheism.  A  classical  defence  of 
atheism  is  Baron  Holbach's  (f!789)  System  of  Nature.  Its 
arguments  are  largely  directed  against  crude  conceptions  of 
God  now  happily  obsolete  among  cultivated  people,  an  outcome 
which  the  modern  world  no  doubt  owes  to  this  writer  and  to 
other  sturdy  "infidels"  of  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  cen- 
turies. 

One  of  Holbach's  contentions,  however,  really  is  among  the 
strongest  common  sense  arguments  for  atheism,  though 
strangely  enough  we  do  not  often  hear  it  today.  It  might  be 
paraphrased  somewhat  like  this.  "If  there  really  were  a  God, 
we  should  have  no  doubt  upon  the  subject  at  all.  Such  a  Be- 
ing as  God  is  thought  to  be,  all  wise  and  powerful,  who  expects 
men  to  believe  in  Him,  would  certainly  have  made  Himself 
known  to  men  in  some  absolutely  unmistakable  manner,  and  not 
merely  by  the  mode  of  improbable  miracles  and  revelations 
which  are  unconvincing  to  most  thoughtful  men.  If  God  ex- 
ists, why  has  He  not  declared  Himself?"  It  must  be  admitted 
that  there  is  a  serious  difficulty  here.  Kant's  answer  to  this 
objection  is  a  consequence  of  his  doctrine  that  the  main  value 
of  human  life  is  the  good  will,  that  is,  character  and  fidelity 
to  duty.  If  men  knew  the  existence  of  God  beyond  question, 
they  would  automatically  do  what  He  requires,  as  mere  pup- 
pets, out  of  fear  of  Him,  and  they  could  develop  no  regard 
for  duty  and  character  for  their  own  sakes.  Expressed  a  little 
differently,  we  might  say  that  probably  the  main  reason  for 
the  existence  of  mankind  is  the  expression  in  finite  beings  of 
character,  and  that  this  is  better  secured  by  faith  in  a  Sup- 
reme Being  than  by  certain  knowledge  of  Him.  A  different 
and  perhaps  a  better  reply  to  Holbach  would  be  to  say  that 
God  actually  has  revealed  Himself  to  men,  in  the  gradual  ex- 
perience of  the  race  as  we  have  observed  the  evolution  of  the 
idea  of  God  in  Part  I,  and  in  the  private  experiences  of  individ- 
uals, such  as  we  studied  in  Part  II.  God  actually  reveals  Him- 
self to  man  as  rapidly  as  man's  developing  intelligence  has 
rendered  possible. 

The  further  objection,  that  if  there  were  a  God,  He  would 
have  created  men  perfect  at  once,  and  given  them  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  Himself,  can  only  be  advanced  against  the  con- 
ception of  a  creator  God,  and  does  not  hold  against  other  con- 
ceptions of  the  nature  of  God. 


362  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

2 — Agnostic  Arguments 

Agnosticism  does  not  deny  that  there  is  a  God;  it  merely 
denies  our  ability  to  find  out  whether  there  is  one. 

One  of  the  most  brilliant  presentations  of  Agnosticism  in 
modern  times  is  that  advanced  by  Herbert  Spencer  in  the  First 
Part  of  his  First  Principles.  All  human  knowledge,  he  urges, 
is  relative.  The  ultimate  scientific  conceptions,  such  as  space, 
time,  cause,  effect,  matter  and  motion,  are  all  relative  to  the 
human  point  of  view,  and  full  of  contradictions  if  taken  in  any 
absolute  sense.  Ultimate  religious  ideas  also  are  unattainable. 
There  are  only  three  ways  of  explaining  the  origin  of  the 
world, — atheism,  pantheism,  and  theism.  If,  with  atheism,  we 
suppose  that  the  universe  is  self-existent,  we  have  explained 
nothing  about  its  nature.  If,  with  pantheism,  we  believe  that  the 
universe  is  self-creative,  we  are  unable  to  state  the  character 
of  this  creation;  we  have  explained  nothing.  If,  with  theism, 
we  believe  that  the  universe  was  created  by  an  external  Agency, 
we  find  ourselves  unable  to  explain  where  the  materials  came 
from  that  were  used  by  the  Creator ;  nor  how  the  Creator  Him- 
self came  into  existence.  The  ultimate  ground  of  all  existence 
is  therefore  Unknown  and  Unknowable. 

But  when  we  go  on  to  examine  the  Second  part  of  the  First 
Principles,  and  the  other  volumes  of  his  Synthetic  Philosophy, 
we  find  Spencer  giving  a  truly  remarkable  account  of  the  law 
of  evolution,  a  law  which  describes  the  development  of  the  heav- 
enly bodies,  of  the  earth's  crust,  of  plant  and  animal  life,  of 
the  human  mind,  of  human  ethics,  religion,  and  society.  He 
assures  us  that  we  may  reckon  with  confidence  in  the  continu- 
ance, for  a  long  period  into  the  future,  of  this  process  by  which 
human  life  is  advancing  in  length  and  breadth,  in  other  words, 
in  which  human  moral  values  are  destined  to  triumph  to  such 
an  extent  that  egoism  and  altruism,  and  duty  and  pleasure  will 
at  last  coincide,  and  everybody  will  spontaneously  do  what  he 
ought  to  do,  25. 

The  critical  reader  is  bound  to  ask,  "If  this  marvelous  pro- 
cess of  evolution  is  a  fundamental  law  of  the  universe  and  of 
man,  and  if  this  evolution  somehow  arises  from  and  is  depend- 
ent upon,  the  Unknown  and  Unknowable,  are  we  so  entirely 
ignorant  of  the  latter  after  all?  We  at  least  know  how  the 
Unknown  and  Unknowable  is  manifested  in  evolution,  and  that 
this  manifestation  makes  for  good."  It  is  not  a  great  step, 


AGNOSTICISM  363 

and  it  appears  a  perfectly  logical  one,  that  John  Fiske,  an 
enthusiastic  disciple  of  Spencer,  took  when  he  called  the  Un- 
known and  Unknowable  the  "Power  that  makes  for  Righteous- 
ness,"— in  other  words,  God,  26.  Fiske  was  accordingly  able 
to  amend  the  Spencerian  philosophy  so  as  to  make  room  for  all 
the  knowledge  of  God  that  is  required  to  meet  the  genuine 
needs  of  religion. 

There  remains,  however,  one  difficulty  in  Spencer's  philos- 
ophy, his  view  of  dissolution  and  the  astronomical  concep- 
tion of  evolution  on  which  this  view  is  based.  Presently  the 
earth  will  grow  cold.  Life  upon  it  will  gradually  disappear, 
and  ultimately  become  extinct.  Finally  the  earth  itself  will 
collide  with  other  heavenly  bodies,  and  its  matter  will  be  re- 
solved into  nebulous  gases  again.  What,  under  these  circum- 
stances, will  have  become  of  the  alleged  "Power  that  makes  for 
Righteousness  ?" 

This  difficulty  is  real,  but  not  impossible  of  solution.  Take 
the  facts  at  their  worst.  Suppose  man  were  utterly  to  disap- 
pear. It  would  still  have  been  true  that  he  had  once  lived,  and 
attained  morally  valuable  ends.  There  are  hundreds  of  thous- 
ands of  years  ahead  of  man  on  the  earth  before  his  destruction 
will  come  by  natural  causes.  When  we  consider  what  has  been 
accomplished  already  within  the  few  thousand  years  of  history, 
and  how  rapid  human  progress  has  been  during  the  past  three 
or  four  centuries,  imagination  fails  when  it  tries  to  think  of 
what  man  will  yet  accomplish  on  the  earth.  Will  that  not 
have  been  worth  while?  Does  it  not  reveal  a  teleological  Power 
in  evolution,  even  if  this  Power  is  unable  or  unwilling  to  pre- 
serve the  achievements  of  man  forever?  So,  taken  at  its  worst, 
these  facts  do  not  render  the  existence  of  God  doubtful,  but 
merely  human  immortality. 

But  a  more  favorable  outcome  is  quite  conceivable.  The 
purposive  Mind  of  the  universe  will  outlive  the  crash  of  worlds 
and  be  present  in  the  evolution  of  future  celestial  systems.  In- 
deed, astronomers  believe  that  the  heavens  reveal  solar  systems 
in  all  stages  of  evolution  and  dissolution.  Cells  are  constantly 
dying  and  being  replaced  in  the  living  human  organism ;  if  the 
entire  universe  is  organic,  should  the  analogy  not  lead  us  to 
expect  similar  waste  and  repair  in  the  body  of  God?  If  God 
is  eternal,  we  men  and  our  moral  and  other  values  will  persist 
forever  in  His  mind ;  we,  too,  shall  persist  in  His  consciousness ; 
it  may  be  that  we  shall  be  immortal  in  God. 


364  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

To  be  sure,  you  may  say,  this  is  all  speculation.  Any  the- 
ories on  such  subjects  must  be  speculative.  But  it  is  also 
speculative  to  say  that  human  values  must  perish  when  the 
earth  grows  cold.  Which  of  the  two  guesses  is  the  more  prob- 
able? Well,  if  the  general  weight  of  evidence  is  really  in 
favor  of  a  teleological  and  a  moral  universe,  is  it  not  more 
probable  that  in  such  a  universe  the  great  achievements  that 
occur  during  the  evolution  of  the  earth,  and  the  similar  achieve- 
ments that  we  conjecture  occur  on  other  planets  are  not  lost? 
In  a  universe  that  is  purposive  to  the  extent  that  we  know  ours 
to  be,  must  not  such  values  in  some  sense  be  eternally  con- 
served? 


IV — The  "Right  to  Believe"  Argument,  Faith 

Perhaps  the  answer  to  agnosticism  that  has  just  been  given 
may  appear  to  leave  a  rejoinder  open  to  the  agnostic.  We 
might  imagine  him  saying: — "Any  conjectures  on  matters  of 
this  sort,  about  which  we  know  so  little,  are  unwarranted.  Your 
very  concessions  show  how  extremely  speculative  any  theory 
on  the  matter  must  be.  Better  be  honest,  and  confess  that 
though  you  have  found  several  arguments  in  favor  of  God 
that  have  some  plausibility,  they  are  by  no  means  conclusive, 
and  that  it  is  better  to  agree  that  all  questions  regarding  the 
ultimate  nature  of  the  universe,  including  the  existence  of  God, 
are  to  man  at  present,  and  so  far  as  we  can  judge  probably 
always  will  be,  unanswerable."  An  excellent  rebuttal  to  the 
agnostic  on  this  point  is  furnished  by  the  "right  to  believe" 
argument  of  William  James. 

As  is  often  the  case  with  a  popular  and  somewhat  impres- 
sionistic philosopher,  James  in  some  respects  overstated  this 
argument,  and  laid  himself  open  to  attack  upon  assertions  to 
which  his  position  did  not  necessarily  commit  him.  Instead, 
therefore,  of  reproducing  James'  argument  as  a  whole,  for 
which  the  reader  is  referred  to  his  famous  essay,  27,  the  author 
will  here  in  his  own  language  give  what  he  believes  to  be  a  part 
of  the  fundamental  truth  in  James'  doctrine  of  "the  right  to 
believe"  in  God. 

Let  us  concede  to  the  agnostics  that  the  existence  of  God 
has  not,  and  in  the  present  state  of  human  knowledge,  cannot 
be  proved.  None  of  the  arguments  which  have  been  reviewed 


THE  RIGHT  TO  BELIEVE  365 

in  the  present  chapter  affords  absolutely  conclusive  evidence. 
It  would  have  been  easy  to  discredit  every  one  of  them,  if  taken 
by  itself.  A  child  can  destroy  a  strong  cable,  by  severing  each, 
of  its  separate  fibres,  one  by  one.  Yet  each  of  the  arguments 
indicates  some  evidence  in  favor  of  the  existence  of  God.  Sup- 
pose, however,  that  the  reader,  like  the  author,  believes  that  all 
of  these  arguments,  taken  together,  after  due  allowance  has 
been  made  for  the  difficulties,  establish  a  decided  weight  of 
probability  in  favor  of  the  existence  of  God.  What  then  should 
a  man  believe  ?  Put  it  this  way ;  either  there  is  a  God  or  there 
is  not  a  God.  The  weight  of  evidence,  though  not  conclusive, 
is  in  favor  of  the  existence  of  God.  Under  these  circumstances 
should  a  man  believe  in  God,  or  should  he  suspend  judgment  in 
the  matter?  Should  a  man  become  an  agnostic,  or  should  he 
maintain,  with  such  modifications  as  his  study  and  reflection 
prompt,  adherence  to  the  God  of  the  Christian  or  Jewish  faith 
in  which  he  has  been  brought  up? 

This  is,  you  see,  a  practical  question.  It  is,  indeed,  a  moral 
question.  Is  it  right  to  believe,  on  mere  probability,  what  we 
do  not  know?  If  the  question  were  not  one  of  great  moment, 
it  would  clearly  be  foolish  to  commit  oneself  to  an  uncertain 
proposition.  But  this  is  a  momentous  question.  The  way  in 
which  it  is  decided  will  considerably  modify  one's  attitude  to- 
wards life.  If  one  can  believe  that  the  whole  world  order  is, 
at  least  to  a  great  extent,  under  the  guidance  and  control  of 
a  Power  that  makes  for  Righteousness,  and  who  is  accessible 
in  private  prayer  and  public  worship,  one  will  have  a  source  of 
assurance,  comfort  and  support  upon  which  he  can  rely  in  the 
responsibilities  of  life.  The  man  who  walks  through  life  with 
the  aid  of  the  Great  Companion  surely  ought  to  be,  and  usually 
is,  a  wiser,  stronger,  and  better  man  than  one  who  has  to  rely 
solely  upon  his  own  efforts  and  those  of  his  fellowmen.  Has 
a  man  a  right  to  such  a  belief,  however,  in  view  of  its  uncer- 
tainty ? 

Now,  if  a  man  believed  that  the  weight  of  evidence  lay 
against  the  belief  in  God,  we  should  certainly  have  to  reply, 
that  he  has  no  such  right.  To  be  dishonest  with  oneself  in  such 
a  matter,  to  try  to  hypnotize  oneself  into  believing  what  one  does 
not  believe  would  be  intellectual  dishonesty  and  moral  coward- 
ice. We  ought  to  honor  the  manly  courage  of  the  skeptics  and 
agnostics  in  all  ages  who  have  refused  to  consent  to  self-decep- 
tion and,  often  subject  to  contumely  and  even  actual  persecu- 


366  EVIDENCE  OF  GOD 

tion,  have  gone  through  life  without  the  sustaining  support 
of  prayer  and  sacraments. 

But  if  a  man  believes  that  the  weight  of  evidence,  consid- 
ered rationally,  and  without  regard  to  his  own  preferences  or 
prejudices  in  the  matter,  is  in  favor  of  a  God,  but  is  not  ab- 
solutely conclusive,  has  he  a  right  to  believe  in  God? 

There  can  be  but  one  answer  to  the  question.  He  certainly 
has  this  right.  Indeed,  in  many  of  the  affairs  of  life  we  arc 
constantly  obliged  to  act  on  such  probabilities.  What  man 
or  woman  ever  married,  who  was  absolutely  certain  that  the 
marriage  would  prove  a  happy  one?  Who  ever  made  a  fortune 
who  did  not  run  some  risk  of  losses  in  his  investments?  What 
successful  business  house  could  go  through  a  day's  transactions 
without  running  risk  of  making  some  mistakes  and  possibly 
serious  ones?  How  often  in  the  history  of  science  itself  men 
have  walked  by  faith,  have  believed  in,  and  devoted  a  large 
part  of  their  whole  lives  to  investigations  based  upon  hypotheses 
of  which  they  were  not  absolutely  certain!  Darwin's  career 
will  serve  as  an  illustration.  After  he  returned  from  his  voyage 
he  tells  us  he  was  haunted  by  the  notion  of  evolution,  an  idea 
to  which  the  facts  that  he  had  observed  in  South  America  strik- 
ingly pointed,  although  he  was  long  unable  to  form  any  logical 
conception  of  how  such  a  process  as  evolution  could  have  taken 
place.  Few  Christian  saints  have  walked  more  courageously 
by  faith,  and  not  by  sight,  than  did  he,  an  invalid,  in  frequent 
suffering,  for  years  patiently  collecting  evidence  in  favor  of  a 
theory  that,  for  all  he  certainly  knew,  might  prove  to  be  wholly 
false.  Unless  one  believes  that  people  should  never  marry, 
or  succeed  in  business,  or  make  scientific  discoveries,  one  cannot 
say  that  it  is  not  right  to  act  on  beliefs  that  seem  fairly  prob- 
able, although  they  are  by  no  means  proved.  And  it  can  be 
as  right  to  act  in  regard  to  religion,  in  the  same  manner  as  in 
other  fields  where  momentous  decisions  have  to  be  made  upon 
probable  but  not  conclusive  evidence. 

Furthermore,  there  are  cases  where  belief  in  a  probable  fact 
helps  to  make  the  fact  a  reality.  If  two  people,  when  they  decide 
to  marry,  resolutely  believe  in  each  other,  their  marriage  is  far 
more  likely  to  be  happy  than  if  they  maintain  an  attitude  of 
"honest  doubt"  of  each  other.  Our  great  West  was  settled 
successfully  because  the  pioneers  firmly  believed  in  the  future 
of  the  country.  Darwin  would  never  have  succeeded  in  estab- 
lishing the  truth  of  evolution  if  he  had  not  believed  in  it. 


EVIDENCE  OF  GOD  367 

Belief  in  the  existence  of  God  obviously  could  not  bring  such 
a  Being  into  existence  if  there  be  none.  But  if  there  be  a  God, 
belief  in  Him  may  well  bring  about  two  desirable  results. 
First,  it  may  lead  to  the  discovery  of  evidence  one  would  not 
observe  otherwise,  as  continually  occurs  in  science  when  an 
hypothesis  is  adopted  tentatively.  Secondly,  it  may  help  to 
make  God  a  Reality  in  one's  own  life  experience,  and  so  coop- 
erate in  bringing  about  the  purposes  of  God,  if  these  purposes 
include  the  attainment  by  man  of  consciousness  of  Him,  and 
human  cooperation  with  Him  in  the  achievement  of  moral 
values.  Of  course  one  must  first  find  the  weight  of  evidence 
clearly  in  favor  of  a  supposed  fact  before  he  should  adopt  it 
in  the  hope  that  his  belief  will  help  either  to  bring  it  about,  or 
to  establish  its  truth.  If  a  woman  were  to  marry  a  confirmed 
drunkard,  her  belief  in  him  might  not  avail  to  render  the 
marriage  a  happy  one.  Our  Western  pioneers  could  not  have 
developed  the  fertile  fields  which  they  passed  on  to  the  present 
generation  if  they  had  tried  to  farm  blue  sky.  It  is  obviously 
foolish  to  base  any  important  decision  on  pure  speculation. 
But  where  the  evidence  is  reasonably  good,  and  the  prospects 
of  reward  are  great,  it  really  seems  foolish  not  to  believe. 

And  may  we  not  go  a  step  further?  Sometimes  is  it  not 
merely  a  right,  but  also  an  actual  duty  to  believe,  and  to  act 
upon  a  belief  in  cases  where  only  probability,  and  not  absolute 
certainty  can  be  had?  An  excessively  cautious  officer  of  a 
corporation  may  fail  in  his  duty  to  the  stockholders  by  losing 
good  business  opportunities  for  them  as  truly  as  one  who 
rashly  invested  their  funds  without  making  a  careful  prelim- 
inary investigation.  A  man  may  conceivably  owe  it  to  a  wom- 
an, whom  he  loves  and  whom  he  has  taught  to  care  for  him,  to 
give  her  the  chance  to  accept  him,  although  no  man  can  be 
absolutely  certain  in  advance  that  the  marriage  would  prove 
a  happy  one.  Similarly,  a  woman  conceivably  might  fail  in 
her  duty,  both  to  a  man  and  to  herself,  by  refusing  him  on 
account  of  excessive  doubts. 

If  the  evidence  in  favor  of  God  seems  reasonably  probable, 
and  if  a  man  knows  that  the  acceptance  of  this  belief,  and 
action  upon  it,  will  enable  him  to  be  a  better  man,  to  achieve 
a  nobler  life  for  himself,  and  to  be  of  more  service  to  others, 
than  would  otherwise  be  possible,  is  it  not  his  duty  to  believe? 
Is  it  right  for  a  man  to  refuse  the  enrichment  that  might  come 
to  his  life  through  consecration  to  God,  and  the  aid  he  may 


368  FAITH 

give  others  and  receive  from  them  by  participating  in  the  pub- 
lic worship  of  the  church  or  synagogue  in  which  he  has  been 
brought  up,  or  which  for  other  reasons  he  finds  will  be  of  most 
service  to  him,  or  in  which  he  can  be  of  most  service  to  others  ? 

The  author  does  not  wish  to  press  this  argument  too  strong- 
ly. It  is,  of  course,  a  matter  of  private  conscience.  Where 
absolute  proof  is  unattainable,  everyone  must  weigh  the  evi- 
dence for  himself.  Like  marriage,  it  is  a  personal  matter, 
which  no  one  can  decide  for  any  one  else.  It  is  what  in  ethics 
is  called  a  case  of  imperfect  obligation.  And,  as  in  all  cases 
of  imperfect  ethical  obligation,  it  is  every  one's  duty  to  exercise 
perfect  respect  and  tolerance  for  those  who  decide  differently 
in  the  matter  from  oneself.  Those  who  identify  themselves  with 
church  or  synagogue  should  respect  those  who  do  not.  And 
those  who  remain  outside  of  religious  organizations  should  re- 
member that  in  our  modern  society  it  is  quite  as  wrong,  and 
quite  as  easy,  for  an  atheist  or  agnostic  to  be  a  fanatical  bigot 
as  it  is  for  a  believer  in  God. 

It  ought  to  be  clear  without  further  discussion  what  the 
thoughtful  modern  believer  in  God  should  understand  by  Faith. 
He  does  not  accept  the  small  boy's  definition,  "Faith  is  believ- 
ing, 'cos  you  want  to,  what  you  know  ain't  so."  He  cannot, 
with  Tertullian,  believe  in  absurdities — credo  quia  absurdum; 
nor  can  he  with  Pascal,  affirm  that  there  are  such  things  as 
"reasons  of  the  heart"  which  cannot  be  intellectually  tested; 
he  cannot,  even,  with  Locke,  believe  that  there  are  truths  that, 
though  not  inconsistent  with  reason,  yet  are  "above  reason" 
and  have  their  truth  validated  by  revelation.  While  he  regards 
his  acceptance  of  God  as  a  "venture  of  faith,"  he  did  not  make 
it  on  more  uncertain  evidence  than  many  of  the  other  impor- 
tant decisions  of  his  life.  After  having  made  this  decision  and 
acted  upon  it,  he  has  found  his  confidence  in  its  correctness 
strengthened  by  his  further  experience.  He  does  not  believe 
that  this  is  due  to  shutting  his  eyes  to  the  uncertainty  of 
the  evidence,  but  to  the  fact  that  further  events  have  been  on 
the  whole  what  belief  in  God  would  have  led  him  to  expect. 
False  hypotheses  as  a  rule  do  not  work  when  put  into  practice. 
This  hypothesis,  he  finds,  does  work  in  his  own  experience,  and 
in  that  of  other  religious  people  with  whom  he  is  associated. 
He,  therefore,  believes  that  it  is  true.  And  this  is  all  that  he 
means  by  Faith. 


REFERENCES 


369 


REFERENCES 

•WILLIAM  JAMES,  The  Witt  to  Believe.  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience, 
Lecture  XX,  Postscript. 

*JOIIN  FISKE,  Idea  of  God. 

*JOSIAII  ROYCE,  Religious  Aspect  of  Philosophy. 

*A.  K.  ROGERS,  The  Religious  Conception  of  the  World. 

*E.  C.  WILM,  Problems  of  Religion. 

*THEODOOE  FLOURXOY,  The  Philosophy  of  William  James. 

*FRIEDUICH  PAULSEX,  Introduction   to  Philosophy. 

*J.  H.  TUFTS,  E.  W.  LYMAK  and  E.  HEIISIIEY  SKEATH,  "The  Ultimate 
Test  of  Religious  Truth,"  American  Journal  of  Theology,  XIV  (1910), 
pp.  16-46. 

Numerous  references,  of  both  elementary  and  advanced  character,  are 
given  in  the  NOTES  to  this  Chapter. 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  NATURE  OF  GOD  AND  THE  PROBLEM  OF  EVIL 

I — Introductory 

WE  are  now  ready  to  consider  theories  regarding  the  nature 
of  God.  Whether  the  relation  of  God  to  man  be  conceived  to 
be  immanent  or  external,  a  satisfactory  theory  of  the  nature 
of  God  must  be  able  to  meet  three  requirements.  (1)  God 
must  be  so  conceived  that  it  can  be  held  that  it  is  through  His 
agency  that  prayer  and  other  religious  experiences  are  rendered 
efficacious  in  the  various  ways  that  we  saw  in  Part  II,  that,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  they  are  efficacious.  (2)  Since  it  is  maintained 
that  man  receives  aid  from  God,  it  must  be  that  God  is  good,  a 
power  that  makes  for  righteousness  in  the  universe,  just  and 
benevolent  in  His  treatment  of  man.  The  presence  of  physical 
and  moral  evil  in  the  world  must  be  reconciled  with  the  supposed 
goodness  of  God.  By  physical  evil  is  meant  the  effects  of  natural 
conditions  adverse  to  man,  conditions  that  produce  floods  and 
drouth,  lightning,  earthquakes,  famines,  diseases,  and  other 
calamities  that  fall  indifferently  upon  good  men  and  bad  men 
alike.  By  moral  evil  is  meant  sin  and  its  consequences,  which 
often  afflict  the  innocent  together  with  the  guilty.  (3)  A  God 
who  in  some  sense  is  thought  to  be  directing  the  course  of  events 
in  the  universe  and  to  come  to  the  assistance  of  man  through  his 
religious  experiences  must  be  extremely  powerful.  How  is  His 
supreme  powerfulness  to  be  reconciled  with  the  freedom  of  the 
human  will?  Or  is  human  freedom  an  illusion?  If  the  latter 
question  is  answered  affirmatively,  in  what  sense  can  man  be 
morally  responsible  for  his  actions? 

In  the  present  chapter  we  shall  be  concerned  with  the  first 
two  of  these  questions,  leaving  the  third  to  the  following  chap- 
ter. We  shall  begin  by  considering  the  answers  given  by  two 
rival  tendencies  of  thought  which  it  will  be  convenient  to  call 
"traditional  theism"  and  "traditional  pantheism,"  1,  after  which 
we  shall  notice  the  views  of  several  philosophers  of  our  own 
time. 

3TO 


TRADITIONAL  THEISM  371 

II — Traditional  Theism 

In  its  older  Christian  forms,  traditional  theism  taught  that 
once  there  was  a  time  when  nothing  existed  but  God,  and  that 
He  decided  to  create  the  heavens  and  earth,  which  He  proceeded 
to  do  in  the  manner  set  forth  in  the  opening  chapters  of  Genesis. 
He  created  man  in  His  own  image  out  of  the  dust  of  the 
ground  arid  breathed  in  him  a  living  soul.  Man  was  then 
innocent,  knowing  neither  good  nor  evil.  Tempted  by  the 
Devil,  an  angel  who  had  previously  rebelled  against  God,  man 
disobeyed  the  divine  command,  and  sin  entered  the  human  race. 
Because  of  sin  God  condemned  all  mankind  to  everlasting  pun- 
ishment: but  later  on,  out  of  compassion,  He  sent  his  only  be- 
gotten Son  down  to  earth,  who  assumed  the  form  of  a  man  in 
the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  satisfied  divine  justice  by  dying 
for  mankind  upon  the  cross.  All  men  who  come  to  hear  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  who  accept  Him  as  their  Saviour  in  the  man- 
ner that  He  has  prescribed,  will  be  saved  from  everlasting  pun- 
ishment. After  His  resurrection  from  the  dead,  Christ  ascend- 
ed into  Heaven,  from  whence  He  shall  come  at  the  end  of  the 
earth,  and  judge  living  men,  and  all  the  dead  who  shall  then 
have  risen  from  their  graves.  Those  whom  He  accepts  shall 
live  in  eternal  bliss  with  Him  in  Heaven,  while  the  remainder 
of  mankind  shall  burn  in  Hell  forever.  Heaven,  Earth,  Hell, 
and  (except  for  Protestants  after  the  Reformation  and  except, 
according  to  the  Protestant  contention,  for  primitive  Chris- 
tians) Purgatory,  were  definitely  located  by  the  astronomy  of 
the  times.  There  was  much  that  was  ethically  inspiring  in  this 
faith,  due  to  the  fact  that  good  men  focussed  their  attention 
on  its  finer  features,  such  as  the  love  of  God  for  them,  and  their 
redemption  through  the  love  and  suffering  of  Christ.  Many 
good  people  in  countless  ages  in  the  past,  as  well  as  today, 
have  been  impelled  to  their  noblest  efforts  through  it.  Its  finest 
poetical  expressions  were  furnished,  in  the  Catholic  interpre- 
tation, by  Dante,  and  in  the  Protestant,  by  Milton. 

Traditional  theism  attributed  the  efficacy  of  prayer  and 
other  forms  of  religious  experience  to  the  miraculous  inter- 
ference of  God  in  the  world's  events.  Before  the  growth  of 
modern  natural  science,  the  theist  was  not  forced  to  accept  the 
uniformity  of  nature.  He  believed  man  to  be  surrounded  by 
numerous  good  and  evil  spirits,  and  that  they,  as  well  as  God, 
continually  set  aside  the  course  of  natural  events.  He  found 


372  GOD  AND  EVIL 

no  difficulty  in  believing  that  God  had  actually  once  caused  the 
sun  to  stand  still  in  the  sky  until  the  Israelites  could  gain  a 
complete  victory  over  their  enemies,  and  that  on  another  oc- 
casion, He  caused  a  man  to  ride  up  into  Heaven  in  a  chariot 
of  fire. 

However,  aside  from  scientific  objections,  traditional  theism 
was  always  open  to  many  difficulties.  Why  did  God  exist  all 
alone  by  Himself,  from  all  eternity,  before  He  decided  to  make 
a  world?  What  change  took  place  in  Him  to  lead  Him  to 
create  the  world  when  He  did?  More  serious  were  the  difficul- 
ties with  the  problem  of  evil.  If,  as  was  believed,  God  was  all 
wise,  all  good,  and  all  powerful,  why  did  He  create  a  world  full 
of  physical  ills,  and  of  sin  and  suffering?  When  He  created 
man,  did  He  not  foresee  that  man  would  sin?  If  He 
did  not,  He  could  not  have  been  omniscient;  and  if  He  did, 
how  can  He  be  exonerated  from  responsibility  for  the  fall  of 
man?  Adam  and  Eve  are  depicted  in  Genesis  as  mere  children, 
not  knowing  the  difference  between  good  and  evil.  The  heinous 
sin  that  they  committed  merely  consisted  in  eating  forbidden 
fruit !  For  this  God  is  said  to  have  inflicted  an  everlasting  pun- 
ishment, not  only  upon  them,  but  upon  their  remotest  descend- 
ants. How  can  anybody  attribute  to  a  just  and  loving  God 
judgments  so  harsh  and  disproportionate  to  the  character  of 
an  offense,  that  if  they  had  been  rendered  by  any  man  he  would 
abhor  him  as  a  vindictive  tyrant?  The  cruelty  of  God,  accord- 
ing to  the  old  theistic  conception,  has  been  passionately  por- 
trayed in  English  poetry  by  Byron  in  Cain,  and  by  Shelley  in 
Queen  Mob.  In  reply  to  the  charge  that  their  view  really 
makes  God  responsible  for  the  wrong  doing  of  man,  theistic 
theologians  often  said  that  God  created  man  good  and  inno- 
cent, with  a  free  will  and  that  man  later  wilfully  abused  his 
freedom  by  disobeying  his  Maker.  This  view,  however,  appears 
to  admit  that  God's  power  has  become  curtailed  since  His  crea- 
tion of  the  world.  He  has  been  compelled  to  face  the  insurrec- 
tion of  His  creatures. 

The  old-fashioned  theistic  theologians  were  never  able  to 
escape  from  such  dilemmas  as  this:  If  God  be  all  wise  and 
powerful,  He  must  have  willed  all  that  has  come  to  pass,  in- 
cluding human  sinfulness,  and  the  other  evils  and  imperfections 
in  the  universe.  But  if  He  willed  all  these  evils  and  imperfec- 
tions, He  cannot  be  all  wise  and  powerful.  We  cannot  here 
review  the  many  subtle  and  refined  arguments  by  which  a  way 


THE  OLDER  PANTHEISM  373 

out  of  this  dilemma  was  sought.     Historians  have  pointed  out 
similar  difficulties  in  Jewish  and  Moslem  theism. 

Ill — The  Older  Pantheism 

Opposed  to  the  theistic  conception  of  a  Creator  God,  there 
frequently  appeared  in  Christian  and  Jewish  thought  the  unor- 
thodox conception  of  pantheism.  This  doctrine  identifies  God 
with  the  world  in  its  totality — all  things,  taken  together,  are 
God.  This  was  the  position,  as  we  saw  in  Chapter  VII,  of 
philosophical  Brahmanism.  Various  Biblical  passages  have 
been  interpreted  in  favor  of  this  view,  notably  such  as  "the 
kingdom  of  God  is  within  you,"  and  the  imagery  of  the  vine 
and  the  branches  in  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  the  fourth  Gospel, 
as  well  as  expressions  here  and  there  in  the  writings  of  St.  Paul. 
Pantheism  has  always  been  a  favorite  view  with  mystics  of 
all  religions.  The  fundamental  life  principle  in  you  and  me 
and  all  things  is  God ;  we  are  all  one  in  Him ;  there  is  really  no 
difference  between  us, — that  is  the  truth  in  the  figurative  saying 
that  we  are  all  brothers  and  God  is  our  heavenly  Father.  There 
was  much  that  is  poetically  attractive  in  the  old  pantheism. 
It  made  for  sweetness,  sympathy  and  tolerance.  For  it, 
God  was  love  more  consistently  than  for  the  old  theism  which 
portrayed  God  too  often  as  an  angry  and  vengeful  Judge.  It 
could  escape  some  of  the  harshness  of  Genesis  by  interpreting 
the  account  allegorically.  But,  where  the  old  theism  tended 
toward  bigotry,  the  old  pantheism  erred  on  the  side  of  excessive 
tolerance.  Since  all  things  are  God,  good  and  evil,  truth  and 
error,  are  all  alike  divine.  God  is  both  the  slayer  and  the  slain. 
He  is  the  doubter  and  the  doubt  as  well  as  the  devout  worshipper 
and  his  hymn,  of  praise,  as  is  shown  in  Emerson's  little  poem, 
Brahma.  If  objection  be  made  to  this  tendency  to  submerge 
all  things  in  God,  and  make  God  favor  both  good  and  evil,  the 
pantheist  could  take  refuge  in  the  negative  side  of  his  doctrine, 
and  say  that  God,  being  Infinite,  is  beyond  all  human  con- 
ceptions; He  is  neither  good  nor  bad,  neither  true  nor  false; 
of  Him  we  can  say  only  that  He  is,  and  that  no  human  attribute 
applies  to  Him.  To  identify  oneself  with  God  is,  then,  from 
the  human  standpoint  apparently  to  pass  into  nothingness; 
God  is  all,  therefore  He  is  nothing  that  we  can  perceive  or 
conceive. 

Such  pantheism  had  even  more  serious  faults  than  its  theistic 


374.  GOD  AND  EVIL 

rival ;  it  could  not  satisfactorily  serve  the  function  of  religion 
in  the  conservation  of  values.  It  only  escaped  the  narrowness 
and  animosities  of  theism  by  a  vision  of  gentle  loveliness  that 
made  everything  satisfactory  as  it  is,  since  all  is  God,  and  since 
no  human  values  have  significance  for  Him  at  all.  "Resist 
not  evil"  was  likely  to  become  a  precept  of  lazy  acquiescence 
in  things  as  they  are ;  and  it  was  easy  to  find  a  quiet  retreat 
from  participation  in  the  world's  battles,  and  enjoy  a  vision 
of  the  ineffable. 

However,  we  must  not  give  an  unjust  impression.  Many  a 
mystical  saint  who  has  believed  himself  and  all  men  identical 
with  God  has  taught  the  world  lessons  of  kindness  and  charity, 
and  how  to  recognize  the  divine  possibilities  for  good  that 
exist  in  every  man.  Less  concerned  than  theism  to  effect 
miraculous  changes  in  the  external  world,  pantheism  taught 
that  the  real  struggle  and  the  real  victory  are  to  be  won  in  the 
human  soul  itself.  To  realize  the  divine  presence  both  within 
one's  soul  and  in  those  of  one's  fellowmen  and  to  maintain  one's 
life  on  this  plane  is  the  main  achievement  of  prayer.  In  such 
experiences  one  attains  immortality  here  and  now.  Pantheism 
served  as  a  corrective  to  theism ;  neither  was  the  whole  truth, 
each  had  excellences  that  the  other  lacked.  Most  adherents  of 
religion  have,  in  their  thinking  and  in  their  living,  uncon- 
sciously combined  the  two  philosophies,  with  results  that  were 
saner  and  more  wholesome  than  either  view  taken  by  itself 
would  have  afforded. 

IV — Modern  Philosophical  Theism  and  Pantheism 

As  religious  thought  has  been  gradually  assimilating  the 
teachings  of  modern  science,  theism  and  pantheism  have  been 
tending  to  converge.  With  the  acceptance  of  the  Copernican 
astronomy,  it  became  impossible  for  theism  to  place  God  upon  a 
throne  in  any  particular  locality  in  the  universe;  it  became 
clear  that  if  He  is  anywhere,  He  must  be  everywhere.  Heaven 
and  Hell  had  to  be  thought  of  as  states  rather  then  as  places. 
With  the  prevalence  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  other  theistic 
conceptions  had  to  be  greatly  modified.  It  became  difficult  in 
astronomy  to  think  that  the  universe  ever  had  a  beginning;  its 
various  portions  pass  through  cycles  or  phases,  but  it  must 
always  have  existed,  and  it  always  will  exist.  If  God  is  its 
Creator,  the  theist  was  forced  to  conclude  that  He  could  not 
have  created  it  in  some  particular  period  in  the  past ;  He  must 


THEISM  AND  PANTHEISM  375 

be  eternally  creating  it.  As  the  different  biological  species 
were  found  to  have  developed  at  different  times  from  other 
species  in  accordance  with  natural  laws,  it  was  seen  that  if  God 
be  credited  with  their  creation,  He  must  have  been  creating 
them  gradually  through  the  processes  of  evolution.  God,  in 
other  words,  is  everywhere  in  the  universe,  eternally  creating. 
Such  a  theism  is  little  different  from  pantheism.  The  various 
processes  of  nature  have  for  it  become  identified  with  the  action 
of  God. 

Modern  pantheism,  on  its  side,  has  been  unwilling  to  concede 
that  there  is,  for  God,  no  difference  between  good  and  evil, 
truth  and  error.  To  be  sure,  our  human  expressions  are 
inadequate,  when  applied  to  God.  Good  and  evil  have  a  dif- 
ferent significance  for  Him  than  for  us.  And  God  is  every- 
where, in  all  things.  But  all  things  do  not  have  equal  value  for 
Him,  nor  is  He  equally  revealed  in  them  all.  We  speak  of  one 
photograph  of  a  friend  as  good,  another  as  bad;  yet  both  are 
truthful  likenesses;  the  camera  never  lies.  But  one  likeness 
reveals  more  of  the  friend's  personality  than  the  other ;  the 
expression  is  more  characteristic,  as  we  say ;  the  significance  of 
the  man  is  more  adequately  revealed  by  it.  So  it  is  of  the  var- 
ious things  in  the  world.  The  modern  pantheist  cannot  agree 
with  the  Pope  that  God  is  as  perfectly  revealed  "in  a  hair  as  in  a 
heart."  Hoar  and  frost  indeed  "glorify  God ;"  but  the  lowliest 
plant  with  its  characteristics  as  an  organism  expresses  the 
immanent  divine  teleology  in  more  respects ;  the  simplest  con- 
scious animal  expresses  them  more  fully  than  any  plant;  the 
most  primitive  savage  more  than  any  animal ;  good  men  more 
than  bad  men ;  and,  for  the  Christian  pantheist,  Jesus  far  more 
than  any  other  man.  So,  while  all  things  in  the  universe  have 
a  place  and  a  value,  and  all  are  expressions  of  God,  they  do  not 
all  have  equal  value. 

The  views  which  have  thus  far  been  attributed  to  modern 
theism  and  pantheism  are  hardly  incompatible.  In  fact  it  is 
often  difficult  today  to  determine  whether  a  writer  really  is  a 
theist  or  a  pantheist.  Probably  no  philosophical  theist  today 
believes  that  there  ever  was  a  time  in  which  there  was  no  world, 
and  that  God  then  created  it  out  of  nothing;  and  no  western 
pantheist  thinks  that  God  is  indifferent  to  distinctions  between 
good  and  evil.  The  'creative  evolution'  of  the  present-day 
theist  cannot  be  much  different  from  the  'immanent  teleology' 
of  a  contemporary  pantheist. 


376  GOD  AND  EVIL 

Abandoning,  therefore,  any  further  attempt  formally  to 
distinguish  between  theism  and  pantheism,  let  us  review  certain 
typical  positions  that  have  recently  been  advanced  regarding 
the  nature  of  God.  It  will  be  convenient  to  center  the  discussion 
about  the  views  of  William  James  and  Josiah  Royce,  probably 
the  two  most  famous  American  philosophers  who  have  developed 
their  thought  along  these  lines  in  recent  years.  They  both 
stand  for  positions  that  are  compromises  between  historic 
theism  and  historic  pantheism.  Both  are  too  modern  to  be  tra- 
ditionally orthodox.  James'  philosophy  of  religion  inclines 
more  to  the  side  of  theism  and  an  external  God,  while  Royce  is 
more  on  the  side  of  pantheism  and  an  immanent  God.  There 
are  two  advantages,  for  our  purposes,  in  giving  particular 
attention  to  these  two  philosophers.  In  the  first  place,  the  views 
of  both  can  readily  be  approached  from  the  psychological  side 
which  has  been  reviewed  in  Part  II;  and  secondly,  both  express 
themselves  with  great  lucidity  and  literary  attractiveness. 
The  reader  who  is  beginning  his  study  of  the  philosophy  of 
religion  will  find  it  practicable  and  profitable  to  continue  his 
study  with  the  writings  of  either  or  both  of  these  philosophers. 

V — James*  Conception  of  an  External  God 

James  was  profoundly  interested  in  the  religious  experiences 
of  individual  men  and  women  of  all  epochs  and  creeds.  In  the 
investigation  of  such  personal  experiences  he  believed  it  possible 
to  get  closest  to  reality.  At  the  end  of  his  Varieties  of  Religion? 
Experience,  which  contains  a  careful  review  of  a  large  collection 
of  such  experiences,  gathered  from  autobiographical  and  other 
sources,  James  concludes  that  in  them  all,  despite  the  greatest 
differences  in  creeds  and  other  outlooks  upon  life,  there 
are  common  elements.  These  are:  (1)  an  uneasiness,  due 
to  a  sense  of  something  being  wrong  about  the  person ;  followed 
by  (2)  a  solution,  due  to  a  sense  of  being  saved  from  the  wrong- 
ness,  by  having  made  proper  connection  with  something  with 
which  be  can  keep  in  working  touch,  and  so  save  himself,  even 
when  all  his  lower  being  seems  to  have  gone  to  wreck.  A  new  life 
opens  to  him,  and  he  has  a  sense  of  union  with  an  external  and 
superior  helping  power.  Psychologically  interpreted,  this  in- 
flux of  new  life  clearly  comes  into  consciousness  from  the  sub- 
conscious self;  the  conscious  person  is  continuous  with  a  "wider 
self"  through  which  saving  experiences  come. 

Thus  far,  the  testimony  of  all  religious  experiences  is  unan- 


WILLIAM  JAMES  377 

imous.  James  feels  no  doubt  that  he  has  been  able  to  furnish 
the  correct  psychological  explanation.  What  is  beyond  this 
"wider  self,"  however,  is  the  point  of  divergence  between  the  ad- 
herents of  different  religions ;  on  this,  the  testimony  of  Stoics, 
Buddhists,  Vedantists,  and  Christians  is  extremely  diverse. 
However,  James  believes  that  the  facts  make  it  at  least  highly 
probable  that  through  this  "wider  self"  the  individual  comes  in 
contact  with  an  "unseen  region"  of  the  universe.  Through  this 
"unseen  region"  work  is  actually  done  upon  our  finite  person- 
ality, and  we  are  turned  into  new  men.  It  is  therefore  a  real 
world,  and  one  to  which  we  belong  in  a  more  intimate  sense  than 
to  the  visible  world,  "for  we  belong  in  the  most  intimate 
sense  wherever  our  ideals  belong.  Yet  the  unseen  region  in 
question  is  not  merely  ideal,  for  it  produces  effects  in  this 
world."  The  "unseen  world"  is  therefore  a  reality.  "God  is 
the  natural  appellation,  for  us  Christians  at  least,  for  the 
supreme  reality,  so  I  will  call  this  higher  part  of  the  universe 
by  the  name  of  God,"  2. 

James  refuses  in  this  book  to  specify  in  detail  the  character- 
istics of  God.  He  is  not  even  willing  to  decide  whether  he  be- 
lieves in  one  God,  or  in  a  sort  of  philosophical  polytheism. 
But  he  is  certain  that  the  conception  of  God  as  he  has  accepted 
it,  is  sufficient  to  enable  men  to  pray  with  the  conviction  that  the 
strength  that  they  receive  from  prayer  is  from  a  Superior 
Being  not  themselves,  and  to  be  similarly  assured  regarding 
their  other  religious  experiences  such  as  conversion,  continuous 
growth,  and  mysticism.  He  believes  that  "the  practical  needs 
and  experiences  of  religion"  are  "sufficiently  met  by  the  belief 
that  beyond  each  man  and  in  a  fashion  continuous  with  him 
there  exists  a  larger  power  which  is  friendly  to  him  and  to  his 
ideals." 

In  his  other  works  James  gives  further  details  of  his  con- 
ception of  God.  For  James,  God,  or  the  superhuman  con- 
sciousness, "however  vast  it  may  be,  has  itself  an  external  en- 
vironment, and  consequently  is  finite."  He  believes  that  there 
is  a  God,  "but  that  he  is  finite,  either  in  power  or  in  knowledge, 
or  in  both  at  once,"  3.  "God  has  an  environment,  He  is  in  time, 
and  works  out  a  history  just  like  ourselves."  James  was  led  to 
believe  in  the  finitude  of  God,  probably  under  the  influence  of 
the  thought  of  John  Stuart  Mill,  4,  to  whom  he  dedicated  his 
Pragmatism,  and  whom  he  greatly  admired.  Like  Mill,  the 
problem  of  evil  seemed  to  James  soluble  only  on  this  assump- 


378  GOD  AND  EVIL 

tion.  Evil  is  in  the  world,  as  a  great  and  terrible  fact ;  any  one 
who  is  a  "tough  minded"  empiricist  and  willing  to  face  the 
facts  cannot  fail  to  recognize  it.  It  is  futile  with  "tender  mind- 
ed" rationalists  to  shut  our  eyes  to  its  presence,  or  to  try  to 
explain  it  away  by  saying  that  it  is  only  an  appearance  or  a 
human  illusion,  that  for  God  it  does  not  exist  or  else  that  to 
the  divine  Mind  evil  is  transferred  into  some  beautiful  harmony 
of  which  we  are  not  aware  and  in  which  we  do  not  participate. 
"In  this  real  world  of  sweat  and  dirt,  it  seems  to  me  that  when 
a  view  of  things  is  'noble,'  that  ought  to  count  as  a  prescrip- 
tion against  its  truth,  and  as  a  philosophic  disqualification. 
The  prince  of  darkness  may  be  a  gentleman,  as  we  are  told  he 
is,  but  whatever  the  God  of  earth  and  heaven  is,  he  can  surely 
be  no  gentleman.  His  menial  services  are  needed  in  the  dust 
of  our  human  trials,  even  more  than  his  dignity  is  needed  in 
the  empyrean,"  5.  God,  for  James,  "lives  in  the  very  dirt  of 
private  fact."  The  presence  of  evil  in  the  world  can  only  be 
explained  on  the  assumption  of  a  good  God,  if  we  believe  that 
God  is  finite  in  power  or  knowledge  and  so  has  thus  far  been 
unable  to  prevent  it.  But  there  is  hope  that  eventually  evil 
will  be  overcome  and  turned  to  good,  especially  if  we  and  other 
creatures  assist  God  in  bringing  this  about.  "God  himself,  in 
short,  may  draw  vital  strength  and  increase  of  his  very  being 
from  our  fidelity.  For  my  own  part,  I  do  not  know  what  the 
sweat  and  blood  and  tragedy  of  this  life  means,  if  they  mean 
anything  short  of  this.  If  this  life  be  not  a  real  fight,  in  which 
something  is  eternally  gained  for  the  universe  by  success,  it  is 
no  better  than  a  game  of  private  theatricals  from  which  one 
may  withdraw  at  will.  But  it  feels  like  a  real  fight, — as  if  there 
were  something  really  wild  in  the  universe  which  we,  with  all 
our  idealities  and  faithfulness,  are  needed  to  redeem ;  and  first 
of  all  to  redeem  our  own  hearts  from  atheisms  and  fears.  For 
such  a  half-wild,  half-saved  universe  our  nature  is  adapted,"  6. 
"Who  knows  whether  the  faithfulness  of  individuals  here  below 
.  .  .  may  not  actually  help  God  in  turn  to  be  more  effec- 
tively faithful  to  his  own  greater  tasks?"  7. 

God,  then,  for  James  is  finite ;  and  the  world  is  imperfect  and 
sinful.  But  God  is  a  conscious  and  a  moral  being,  and  we  have 
the  opportunity  to  cooperate  with  Him  for  the  salvation  of  the 
world.  If  we  are  faithful,  we  can  be  sure  that  He  will  be  faith- 
ful, and  there  is  every  reason  to  hope  (though,  to  be  sure,  not 
absolute  certainty,  but  a  good  fighting  chance  is  all  we  need) 


A  LIMITED  GOD  379 

that  we  and  He  together  will  be  victorious.  The  thought  of 
James  here,  as  Professor  Flournoy  has  pointed  out,  is  similar 
to  that  expressed  in  the  words  of  the  Apostle, — "We  are  labor- 
ers together  with  God,"  8. 

The  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  James'  conception  of 
God  are  evident.  It  appeals  to  our  red  blood.  We  have  a  God 
who  is  on  our  side,  who  is  accessible  to  us  in  religious  experi- 
ence and  who  will  help  us ;  and  together  with  Him  we  have  a 
good  chance  to  make  a  finer  and  better  world.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  future  is  not  absolutely  assured,  and  to  many  the 
real  function  of  religion  is  to  give  such  assurance.  "The 
victory  for  which  morality  fights  is  for  religion  already,  or 
rather,  eternally,  won ;  and  it  is  the  assurance  of  this  victory 
which  inspires  the  finite  subject  with  courage  and  confidence 
in  his  individual  struggle,"  says  Professor  Pringle-Pattison,  9. 
James  might  reply  that  his  view  does  give  us  a  reasonable 
amount  of  assurance  in  view  of  the  past  progress  that  human 
history  records,  and  of  our  own  private  religious  experiences. 
A  more  serious  objection,  as  it  seems  to  the  author,  is  one  that 
he  has  already  pointed  out  (see  page  281  above)  that  the  hypo- 
thesis of  an  external  God  has  to  be  incorporated  into  the  science 
of  psychology,  and  so  be  made  operative  upon  a  plane  where 
it  does  not  seem  properly  to  belong. 

VI — Other  Theories  of  a  Limited  God 

The  objection  to  James'  conception  of  God  just  mentioned, 
has  been  avoided,  the  author  believes,  by  Professor  L.  T.  Hob- 
house.  In  some  respects  his  conclusions  regarding  God  are 
similar  to  those  of  James,  though  his  philosophical  system  as 
a  whole  is  radically  different.  The  history  of  the  evolution  of 
individual  minds  in  the  universe  appears  to  imply  "a  Mind  that 
is  not  limited  to  a  single  physical  organism."  The  existence 
of  a  Purpose,  so  far  as  our  experience  and  reasoning  powers 
go,  implies  a  Mind  commensurate  with  that  Purpose.  So,  if 
there  is  a  purpose  running  through  the  world  as  a  whole,  and 
Professor  Hobhouse  thinks  that  the  evidence  points  that  way, 
"there  is  a  Mind  of  which  the  world-purpose  is  the  object." 
Such  a  Mind  must  be  a  permanent  and  central  factor  in  the 
universe,  in  short,  God.  But  this  Mind,  or  God,  is  neither  the 
whole  of  things  nor  an  Omnipotent  Creator ;  nor  is  it  an  Omni- 
potent Providence.  It  is  only  a  factor  in  the  whole  of  things. 


380  GOD  AND  EVIL 

Evil  exists  in  the  world.  The  extent  of  evil  is  "the  measure 
of  the  incompleteness  of  the  order  actually  achieved  by  Mind 
in  the  world,"  10.  Physical  evil  is  the  outcome  of  blind  mechan- 
ical forces  in  the  world  which  have  not  yet  been  brought  under 
control.  Moral  evil  is  due  to  the  partial  ends  that  individuals, 
families,  and  classes  of  society  selfishly  pursue  without  regard 
to  their  effect  upon  others.  These  evils  are  gradually  being 
overcome  by  an  advancing  humanity,  in  which  God  is  incar- 
nated. "This  slowly  wrought  out  dominance  of  mind  in  things 
is  the  central  fact  of  evolution.  .  .  It  gives  a  meaning  to 
human  effort,  as  neither  the  pawn  of  an  overruling  Providence 
nor  the  sport  of  blind  force.  It  is  a  message  of  hope  to  the 
world,  of  suffering  lessened  and  strife  assuaged,  not  by  fleeing 
from  reason  to  the  bosom  of  faith,  but  by  the  increasing  ration- 
al control  of  things  by  that  collective  wisdom,  ..... 
which  is  all  that  we  directly  know  of  the  Divine,"  11. 

Professor  Hobhouse  in  his  philosophy  makes  no  place  at  all 
for  James'  recognition  of  impulse,  mysticism,  and  other  non- 
rational  factors.  He  does  not  permit  us  to  believe  that  the 
increasing  rational  control  of  things  is  due  to  an  external  God 
acting  upon  the  subconscious.  For  him  God  apparently  must 
be  immanent  in  the  human  mind,  and  especially  in  the  human 
reason,  and  to  operate  through  the  logical  processes.  Professor 
Hobhouse  is  extremely  guarded  in  venturing  any  further  state- 
ments regarding  the  nature  of  God.  It  is  quite  possible,  the 
author  believes,  to  accept  this  interpretation  of  evolution  and 
of  the  relation  of  God  to  man,  and  to  make  one  further  asser- 
tion which,  so  far  as  he  knows,  Professor  Hobhouse  has  not 
himself  made, — viz :  that  in  prayer  and  other  forms  of  religious 
experience  (at  least  those  of  a  more  rational  and  intellectual 
character)  man  becomes  aware  of  God  and  is  strengthened  by 
Him  for  the  performance  of  his  tasks,  12. 

Another  contemporary  philosopher  who  believes  in  a  limited 
God  is  Dr.  Hastings  Rashdall.  He  also  is  led  to  this  conclu- 
sion by  reason  of  the  evil  that  is  in  the  world.  Dr.  Rashdall  con- 
ceives of  God  as  alone  eternal ;  all  other  beings  owe  their  exist- 
ence to  Him.  So  God  has  willed  and  is  responsible  for  the 
world  as  it  is.  The  evil  in  the  world  is  so  great  that  we  cannot 
believe  the  world,  as  it  now  is,  to  have  been  willed  for  its  own 
sake  by  a  perfectly  good  and  rational  Being,  such  as  is  God. 
The  present  world  must  therefore  have  been  willed  as  a  means 
to  some  future  end.  It  would  be  unjust  for  man  to  have  been 


A  LIMITED  GOD  381 

brought  into  existence  merely  in  preparation  for  this  future 
good  unless  he  were  to  share  in  it;  so  man  must  be  immortal. 
Gtod  has  willed  this  universe  as  it  now  is,  because  it  is  the  best 
that  seems  possible  to  Him,  to  whose  mind  all  the  possibilities 
of  things  are  known.  The  ethical  perfection  of  God  is  beyond 
question.  His  limitations  cannot  be  on  the  side  of  His  good- 
ness ;  they  must  be  on  the  side  of  His  power.  There  must  be 
eternal  necessities  that  are  part  of  His  own  eternal  nature. 
These  prevent  Him  from  willing  a  universe  in  which  all  the 
good  that  will  ultimately  be  gained  in  this  universe  might  have 
been  gained  without  the  evil  that  now  exists.  God  is  respon- 
sible for  the  evil  that  men  do,  but  not  in  such  a  way  as  to  clear 
men  of  full  responsibility  for  their  own  actions ;  indeed,  in  a 
sense,  man  alone  is  the  author  of  evil,  for  he  alone  wills  evil 
otherwise  than  as  a  means  to  the  ultimate  good.  Dr.  Rashdall's 
grounds  for  believing  in  the  existence  of  God  are  chiefly  the 
moral  arguments,  (which  he  states  in  a  very  convincing  man- 
ner in  connection  with  his  ethical  system  as  a  whole),  and  the 
arguments  that  follow  from  mentalism. 

That  the  doctrine  of  a  finite  God  does  not  necessarily  imply 
pragmatism  or  other  standpoints  peculiar  to  James  is  evident 
from  the  fact  that  this  doctrine  is  also  held  by  Professor  Hob- 
house,  a  realist,  and  by  Dr.  Rashdall,  who  calls  himself  a  "the- 
istic  idealist."  Both  of  these  thinkers  are  at  wide  variance 
with  James  in  their  philosophical  standpoints,  and  with  each 
other.  Yet  the  presence  of  evil  has  forced  all  three  to  the  con- 
ception of  a  God  that  is  limited  in  power.  The  example  of 
Dr.  Rashdall,  a  clergyman  who  adds  to  profound  philosophical 
scholarship  a  deep  understanding  of  and  sympathy  with,  the 
needs  of  the  human  heart  on  the  religious  side,  ought  to  assure 
any  student  that  if  his  study  of  the  problem  of  evil  leads  him 
to  conclude  that  God  is  limited  in  power,  he  need  not  lose  his 
religious  faith  and  devotion  to  God  on  that  account,  13. 

Some  of  the  other  pragmatists  have  accepted  James5  doctrine 
of  a  finite  God,  and  have  in  some  respects  developed  the  con- 
ception further,  though  it  must  be  confessed,  they  have  more 
often  done  so  in  connection  with  their  attacks  upon  idealism 
than  in  a  constructive  manner.  The  most  original  and  sugges- 
tive developments  of  the  idea  of  a  limited  God  in  the  literature 
of  Pragmatism  by  writers  other  than  James  are  probably  to  be 
found  in  the  writings  of  Dr.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller,  14. 


282  GOD  AND  EVIL 

VII — Royce's  Conception  of  an  Immanent  God 

Many  idealistic  philosophers  of  the  past  generation  in  Great 
JBritain  and  America  have  held  the  conception  of  an  immanent 
God.  The  God  of  religion  is  thought  to  be,  either  the  universe 
taken  in  its  entirety  as  an  organic  whole,  or  the  Mind  of  the 
universe  as  a  whole,  or  the  closest  approximation  to  such  an 
Absolute  that  it  is  possible  for  religion  to  employ  for  its  prac- 
tical human  needs.  Josiah  Royce's  brilliant  conception  of  God 
is  in  most  respects  typical  of  this  group,  and  it  furnishes  a 
sharp  contrast  to  the  notion  of  a  limited  God  which  we  have 
just  been  considering.  As  Royce's  work  was  chiefly  done  before 
the  issue  between  mentalism  and  speculative  idealism  had  become 
so  sharply  defined  as  it  is  today,  his  conception  contains  fea- 
tures peculiar  to  each,  and  not  entirely  consistent  with  one 
another.  Taken  all  in  all,  however,  Royce's  conception  of  God 
is  probably  the  most  readily  grasped,  and  for  religious  pur- 
poses, the  most  practically  workable  that  has  been  furnished 
by  representatives  of  mentalism  or  speculative  idealism. 

Like  James,  Royce  was  keenly  interested  in  religious  pheno- 
mena from  a  psychological  standpoint,  and  like  him,  he  was 
deeply  impressed  with  the  problem  furnished  by  the  presence 
of  physical  and  moral  evil.  However  his  idealistic  philosophy, 
and  the  fact  that  his  psychological  interests  were  chiefly  on  the 
side  of  social  psychology,  led  him  to  a  conception  of  God  and  a 
solution  of  the  problem  of  evil  that  were  radically  different. 

Royce  was  at  once  impressed  with  the  uniqueness  of  individ- 
uals and  with  the  dependence  of  individuals  upon  one  another 
in  the  social  order.  Our  minds  are  so  constituted  that  it  is 
impossible  for  any  of  us  to  share  directly  in  the  consciousness 
of  another  person ;  I  can  see  your  body,  but  I  cannot  perceive 
your  thoughts,  nor  you  any  of  mine.  On  the  moral  side,  too, 
each  of  us  is  unique ;  each  has  his  own  interests,  talents,  obliga- 
tions and  loyalties,  and  each  of  us  must  completely  respect  the 
personalities  of  others.  Yet  for  all  this  uniqueness  of  our  con- 
sciousness on  the  cognitive,  as  well  as  on  the  emotional  and 
Volitional  sides,  we  belong  in  a  social  world  and  are  dependent 
upon  one  another.  Upon  these  considerations  Royce  bases  his 
arguments  for  the  existence  of  God.  Along  the  lines  of  mental- 
ism, he  argues  that  the  world  must  either  be  mental,  such  that 
minds  can  know  it,  or  else  it  must  be  unknowable.  After  refut- 
ing the  claims  of  agnosticism,  he  maintains  that  since  the  world 


JOSIAH  ROYCE  383 

is  knowable  it  must  be  actually  known  to  an  all  embracing  Mind 
or  Self,  i.  e.y  God.  The  fact  that  you  and  I  can  perceive  the 
same  object  and  agree — or  for  that  matter  disagree — about 
its  characteristics,  indicates  that  we  are  not  really  each  shut 
up  in  his  own  isolated  consciousness,  but  that  we  are  members 
of  a  common  Self  (i.  e.,  God).  We  are  related  to  each  other 
in  this  common  Self,  in  a  manner  somewhat  analogous  to  that 
in  which  our  ideas  are  related  to  one  another  in  our  own  minds. 
In  our  own  minds  we  often  find  different  ideas  in  disagreement 
with  one  another ;  when  this  is  the  case,  they  can  be  corrected 
in  the  light  of  the  completer  knowledge  we  can  recall  from 
memory  and  attain  by  reasoning;  in  other  words,  each  idea  is 
validated  and  corrected  by  ourselves.  In  a  similar  way  we  are 
elements  in  agreement  or  disagreement  with  the  other  contents 
of  God's  mind.  On  the  moral  side,  too,  each  of  us  has  his  own 
personality  and  his  own  talents  and  duties;  he  must  find  the 
objects  and  causes  which  evoke  his  loyalty  and  be  faithful  to 
them.  These  loyalties  he  will  find  lead  him  ever  on  into  larger 
loyalties,  until  they  constitute  a  system  that  includes  his  rela- 
tionships to  all  his  fellow  human  beings  and  to  the  universe  as 
a  whole,  and  so  give  him  the  place  it  is  his  duty  to  fill  in  the 
purposes  of  God.  The  fact  of  the  mental  isolation  and  moral 
uniqueness  of  every  human  being  on  the  one  hand,  with  the 
fact  that  his  knowledge  and  his  duties  bring  him  into  organic 
relationship  with  other  human  beings  and  with  the  physical 
universe  on  the  other,  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  the  universe 
as  a  whole  must  be  an  organic  whole,  unified  in  the  knowledge 
and  will  of  an  Absolute  Mind. 

God,  for  Royce,  is  accordingly  an  Absolute  Mind  that 
knows,  feels,  and  wills  the  whole  universe  in  its  entirety.  He 
variously  describes  Him  as  "the  Logos,"  the  "Problem  Solver," 
the  "World  Interpreter,"  and  the  all  inclusive  "Self,"  —  all 
terms  that  imply  that  it  is  through  Him  that  we  share  in  the 
understanding  and  appreciation  of  the  meaning  and  purposes 
of  a  common  world.  God  is  both  in  time  and  He  is  eternal.  He 
perceives,  feels  and  wills  the  various  events  that  we  experience 
following  one  another  in  time  in  our  own  consciousness;  in  this 
sense  He  is  in  time  like  ourselves.  On  the  other  hand,  he  per- 
ceives the  entire  succession  of  events  in  time  all  together  at  once, 
as  a  totum  simul,  and  in  this  sense  He  is  eternal.  Analogous 
to  the  divine  experience,  is  the  manner  in  which  one  who  under- 
stands music  can  experience  as  in  an  artistic  whole  the  various 


384  GOD  AND  EVLL 

notes  in  a  symphony;  they  indeed  follow  one  another  in  time 
as  the  selection  is  rendered  by  the  orchestra,  yet  in  a  sense 
they  all  belong  together  in  a  whole  so  that  the  last  and  the  first 
are  appreciated  together.  Unless  the  notes  actually  were  ex- 
perienced as  following  one  another  in  time  they  could  not  also 
be  perceived  and  felt  as  constituting  an  artistic  whole.  God 
experiences  the  Universe  in  time  as  we  do,  and  immanent  in  us, 
in  fact;  and  also  He  experiences  it  eternally  as  a  completed 
whole.  His  experience  of  it  in  its  eternal  completeness  and 
perfection  could  not  occur  if  it  were  not  for  the  fact  that  He 
also  experiences  its  succession  in  time  in  ourselves  and  the  other 
finite  minds  of  the  universe.  In  fact,  His  mind  is  constituted 
by  the  finite  minds  of  the  universe,  and  yet  is  a  complete  whole ; 
much  as  our  minds  are  constituted  by  our  successive  ideas,  and 
yet  embrace  these  ideas  in  the  completed  wholes  that  constitute 
our  personalities  or  selves. 

From  this  follows  Royce's  solution  of  the  problem,  of  evil. 
Just  as  there  have  to  be  strident  notes  in  a  symphony  to  make 
possible  its  harmony  as  a  whole,  so  there  must  be  evil  in  the 
world,  both  physical  and  moral,  in  order  that  it  may  be  over- 
come in  the  universal  harmony.  Without  the  evil,  the  good 
could  not  triumph.  This  doctrine  is  not  one  of  quietism  or 
Oriental  resignation.  It  calls  upon  all  of  us  to  endeavor  to 
cooperate  in  the  world  purposes,  both  by  way  of  intellectual 
understanding,  and  emotional  appreciation,  and  service  in  the 
active  duties  of  life,  and  so  to  make  ourselves  one  with  the 
Absolute.  Moral  responsibility  and  the  sharp  distinction  be- 
tween right  and  wrong  are  insisted  upon.  The  life  of  the  good 
man  is  eternally  approved  in  the  divine  mind ;  the  deeds  of  the 
sinful  man,  while  turned  to  good  ultimately  in  the  world  order, 
are  eternally  reprobated. 

The  doctrine  that  evil  deeds  are  turned  into  good  in  the  har- 
mony of  the  whole,  while  in  a  sense  they  still  remain  evil  and 
are  reprobated,  furnished  one  of  the  leading  motives  in  Royce's 
interpretation  of  Christianity.  Essential  to  any  religion,  or 
any  associated  life  at  all,  is  mutual  confidence  and  loyalty.  All 
sin  is,  in  a  sense,  treason  or  disloyalty  to  the  moral  community. 
The  betrayal  of  Judas  and  the  denial  of  Peter  were  instances 
of  such  disloyalty.  These  had  to  be  overcome  and  confidence 
restored  through  an  atoning  deed  that  would  reunite  the  com- 
munity and  restore  its  devotion  to  its  leader.  This  is  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  death  of  Christ  as  the  Church  was  enabled  to 


JOSIAH  ROYCE  385 

interpret  it.  Why  did  the  evil  deeds  have  to  take  place?  Would 
not  the  world  have  been  better  without  them?  No,  Royce  would 
answer.  Only  in  this  way  would  the  atoning  deeds  be  rendered 
possible,  and  the  increased  and  intensified  devotion  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Church  to  one  another.  The  suffering  and  death 
of  the  Master  were  essential;  not  otherwise  could  the  early 
Church  have  attained  its  high  spiritual  plane  of  mutual  love 
and  devotion  and  passed  on  its  ideal  to  future  ages.  Not  only 
in  the  history  of  Christianity,  but  in  the  universe  everywhere, 
moral  evil  is  ultimately  turned  through  heroic  deeds,  often  in- 
volving suffering  and  sacrifice,  to  a  more  perfect  harmony  than 
would  otherwise  have  been  possible. 

Various  objections  have  been  raised  against  Royce's  philoso- 
phy of  religion.  It  has  been  urged  that  if  the  world  is  all 
one  in  the  Absolute,  why  do  many  of  its  features  appear  so 
heterogenous  and  conflicting  to  us?  The  answer  is  that  we  are 
finite  and  our  limited  ken  does  not  afford  a  complete  under- 
standing of  the  pattern  of  the  whole.  Objections  to  the  men- 
talism  and  panpsychism  involved  in  Royce's  account  could,  the 
author  thinks,  be  met  by  purging  the  general  account  of  these 
elements,  which  are  not  indispensable.  For  the  argument  for 
the  existence  of  God  based  on  the  social  character  of  our  knowl- 
edge and  the  isolation  of  our  finite  selves  could  be  substituted 
the  organic  and  teleological  arguments  of  speculative  idealism. 

More  serious  are  the  moral  objections.  Is  it  morally  just 
to  think  of  God  as  willing  a  universe,  which,  indeed,  is  all  har- 
monious and  glorious  to  His  infinite  mind,  but  at  our  expense? 
Is  it  right  that  we  should  suffer  all  the  horrors  of  the  world 
in  order  that  He  may  enjoy  a  universal  harmony?  In  his 
earlier  works  Royce  assures  us  that  this  is  right,  because  God 
suffers  in  our  suffering  and  shares  it  with  us.  "Were  not  the 
Logos  our  own  fulfillment,  were  he  a  remote  god,  were  he  not 
our  own  selves  in  unity,  were  he  foreign  to  the  harm  and  to  the 
foolishness  of  our  chaotic  lives,  we  should  indeed  look  to  him 
in  vain ;  for  then  his  eternal  peace  would  be  indifference  and 
cruelty,  his  perfection  would  be  our  despair,  his  loftiness  would 
be  our  remote  and  dismal  helplessness.  But  he  is  ours,  and  we 
are  his.  He  is  pierced  and  wounded  for  us  and  in  us.  Our  de- 
feats are  his :  and  yet,  above  time,  triumphant  in  the  sacred 
glory  of  an  insight  that  looks  before  and  after  through  the 
endless  ages  and  the  innumerable  worlds,  he  somehow  finds 
amidst  all  these  horrors  of  time  his  peace,  and  so  ours.  'My 


386  .  GOD  AND  EVIL 

peace,'  he  says,  4I  give  unto  you ;  not  as  the  world  giveth,  give 

I  unto  you.'     This,  then  at  last,  is  the  true  realization  of  the 
rapt  wonder  that  the  mystics  sought.     What  in  time  is  hope- 
lessly lost,  as  attained  for  him  in  his  eternity,"  15.   While  Royce 
here  is  very  eloquent,  he  does  not  seem  quite  convincing.     It 
sounds  as  if  he  were  saying  that  God  suffers  when  we  do  in 
order  that  He  may  rejoice  when  we  do  not.     Such  a  philosophy 
ought  really  to  indicate  how  a  man  may  share  in  the  joy  that 
comes  to  God  from  his  suffering.     Robert  Browning  saw  the 
answer  to  this  difficulty  better  than  Royce  and  stated  it  in  the 
following  stanza  from  Abt  Vogler: 

"All  we  have  willed  or  hoped  or  dreamed  of  good,  shall  exist; 

Not  its  semblance,  but  itself;  no  beauty,  nor  good,  nor  power 
Whose  voice  has  gone  forth,  but  each  survives  for  the  melodist 

When  eternity  affirms  the  conception  of  an  hour. 
The  high  that  proved  too  high,  the  heroic  for  earth  too  hard, 

The  passion  that  left  the  ground  to  lose  itself  in  the  sky, 
Are  music  sent  up  to  God  by  the  lover  and  the  bard; 

Enough  that  he  heard  once:  we  shall  hear  it  by-and-by." 

Attention  is  called  to  the  last  line,  particularly.  If  finite  beings 
are  in  some  sense  participating  in  the  eternal  mind  of  God, 
it  is  their  destiny  to  enjoy  the  eternal  symphony  too;  the  world 
order  is  vindicated.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  add,  that  although  Royce 
nowhere  in  his  writings,  so  far  as  the  author  has  been  able  to 
discover,  shows  any  indication  that  he  realized  that  the  most 
serious  objection  to  his  solution  of  the  problem  of  evil  can  be 
met  by  the  simple  postulation  of  an  immortality  in  which  man 
can  become  sufficiently  identified  with  God  to  gain  such  an 
insight,  occasional  passages  in  his  later  works  suggest  that  he, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  actually  did  believe  in  precisely  such  a 
form  of  immortality.  Royce's  view  of  immortality  will  be  dis- 
cussed in  Chapter  XXII. 

The  conception  of  God  advocated  by  Royce,  in  the  opinion 
of  the  author  at  least,  satisfactorily  validates  prayer  and  other 
forms  of  religious  experience  in  the  respects  in  which  in  Part 

II  we  found  them  actually  to  be  efficacious.     In  these  experi- 
ences, if  we  accept  Royce's  conception  of  God,  we  can  say  that 
the  individual  identifies  himself  with  the  thought  and  will  of 
God.     If  it  is  in  some  degree  through  gaining  the  viewpoint 
of  God,  the  universal  Self,  that  we  are  able  to  communicate 
with  each  other  and  know  a  common  world,  and  if  it  is  through 
our  identity  with  Him  that  we  can  unite  in  common  loyalties, 
and  if  it  is  through  our  common  social  experience  in  the  Church 


ABSOLUTE  IDEALISM  387 

that  we  have  learned  to  know  and  appreciate  Christ,  then  surely 
we  must  conclude  that  it  is  through  God  that  we  gain  the  spirit- 
ual reinforcement  and  other  benefits  afforded  us  in  our  religious 
experiences,  16. 

VIII — God  and  Absolute  Idealism 

Royce  is  generally  classified  as  an  absolute  idealist,  though 
he  puts  more  emphasis  on  feeling  and  will  than  is  ordinarily 
characteristic  of  this  type  of  philosophy.  It  must  be  admi;t- 
ted  that  the  views  of  certain  of  the  other  absolute  idealists — 
not  all  of  them —  are  less  favorable  to  religion  than  those  of 
Royce.  For  instance,  it  is  sometimes  asserted  that  the  God  of 
religion  and  the  Absolute  of  this  kind  of  philosophy  are  nob 
identical.  The  Absolute  is  then  the  term  given  to  the  Being 
that  is  the  all  inclusive  Reality  of  the  world  as  a  whole.  All 
finite  beings  are  "appearances,"  partial  bits  of  Reality  that  are 
true  so  far  as  they  go,  but  are  full  of  incoherencies  and  con- 
tradictions when  assumed  to  be  true  in  any  ultimate  sense.  All 
human  experience  is  of  these  appearances,  which  differ  in  the 
degree  to  which  they  approximate  Reality.  Religion  is  the 
very  highest  of  these  appearances,  with  the  possible  exception 
of  philosophy.  Still,  religion  is  an  appearance,  and  not  Reality 
itself.  And  religion  worships  God,  not  the  Absolute.  For  the 
Absolute,  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a  purpose  or  a  want, 
or  a  succession  in  time,  or  the  distinction  between  good  and  evil, 
or  a  will ;  for  all  such  distinctions  imply  limitations  in  the  mind 
that  experiences  them,  something  to  be  attained  that  is  not  yet 
possessed.  These  limitations,  to  be  sure,  are  painfully  present 
in  the  life  of  man,  with  his  finite  intelligence,  and  to  some  extent 
he  carries  these  limitations  over  into  his  religious  conception 
of  God;  which,  indeed,  he  probably  has  to  do,  in  order  that 
through  God  he  may  find  aid  and  assurance  in  overcoming  his 
difficulties.  So  the  idea  of  a  God,  who  has  purposes  and  over- 
comes evil  by  good  and  comes  to  human  aid,  as  conceived  by 
religion,  is  only  a  finite  and  human  conception  formed  on  the 
level  of  appearances,  and  is  not  absolutely  true. 

At  first  glance,  acceptance  of  a  philosophy  that  regards 
God  in  this  way  must  appear  incompatible  with  continued 
practice  of  religion.  It  must  be  admitted  that  such  a  con- 
ception of  God  in  distinction  from  the  Absolute  is  far  less 
satisfactory  for  religion  than  Royce's  position.  However, 
it  must  be  remembered  that  writers  of  this  type  concede  that 


388  GOD  AND  EVIL 

religion  moves  on  one  of  the  very  highest  orders  of  appear- 
ance; that  it  is  closer  to  Reality  than  the  natural  sciences, 
and  that  the  conceptions  with  which  religion  deals  possess  a 
higher  degree  of  truth  than  those  of  science.  Now  it  certainly 
seems  to  follow  that  if  men  are  justified  in  bridge  building  in 
observing  the  principles  of  dynamics — principles  based  upon  a 
lower  order  of  appearance — they  are  also  justified  in  address- 
ing their  prayers  to  God — a  conception  based  on  a  higher  order 
of  appearance.  (In  saying  this  it  is  assumed  that  these  prayers 
are  of  the  forms  found  to  be  efficacious  from  a  psychological 
standpoint,  as  analyzed  in  Chapter  XVI).  For  practical  pur- 
poses such  a  Being  as  God  can  be  regarded  as  existing.  The 
author  accordingly  believes  that  there  is  no  reason  to  conclude 
that  the  acceptance  of  these  conceptions  of  God  and  the  Ab- 
solute logically  render  unjustified  the  belief  of  the  followers 
of  religion  in  the  presence  of  God  in  their  religious  experiences. 
It  seems  clearly  to  follow  from  this  philosophy  that,  so  long  as 
one  thinks  and  acts  on  the  plane  of  every  day  life — the  plane 
of  appearance  on  which  all  of  us  pass  most  of  our  time,  and  all 
but  metaphysicians  the  whole  of  it — one  is  justified  in  such 
religious  beliefs  and  practices  as  psychological  science  finds 
efficacious,  17. 

IX — The  Author's  Opinions 

Attractive  in  many  ways  as  is  the  theory  of  a  God  whose 
relation  to  the  individual  in  religious  experiences  is  external, 
the  author  personally  rejects  this  view,  as  he  feels  that  the 
scientific  objections  to  it  are  too  great.  He  is  as  strongly 
prejudiced  against  the  employment  of  God  as  an  hypothesis 
to  explain  facts  in  the  psychology  of  religion  as  in  any  other 
science.  (Cf.  page  281  above).  He  therefore  favors  the  con- 
ception of  an  immanent  God,  who  is  present  in  human  conscious- 
ness in  religious  experiences,  but  who  is  not  perceived  in  a 
manner  in  any  way  analogous  to  that  in  which  we  perceive 
external  objects.  We  are  aware  of  our  own  selves  as  organizing 
factors  within  our  consciousness,  not  as  sensations  having 
reference  to  parts  of  our  organisms  or  to  external  objects. 
The  same  is  true  of  God.  Like  the  self,  God's  relation  to  us  is 
an  internal  relation ;  we  find  Him  within  us. 

While  Royce's  theory,  if  the  postulate  of  immortality  is  made 
an  integral  feature  of  it,  may  dispose  of  the  problem  of  evil 
theoretically,  somehow  it  does  not  seem  quite  convincing.  On 


THE  AUTHOR'S  OPINIONS  289 

this  point,  William  James,  Professor  Hobhouse  and  Dr.  Rash- 
dall  are  more  satisfactory.  When  we  consider  how  great  the 
imperfections  of  the  world  are,  and  remember  that  they  furnish 
a  difficulty  in  any  case  for  a  teleological  explanation,  it  seems 
more  in  accordance  with  the  facts  not  to  claim  that  the  world  as 
a  whole  is  perfect,  but  merely  that  there  is  a  teleological 
principle  in  it,  that  tends  to  be  increasingly  but  not  invariably 
successful. 

To  be  sure,  much  that  appears  to  us  to  be  physical  evil  is 
really  for  man's  good.  Civilization  has  thrived  most  in  the 
temperate  zones  where  man  has  had  difficulties  to  encounter,  and 
not  in  the  localities  where  temperature  and  soil  afford  him  no 
problems  at  all.  And  many  apparent  moral  evils  are  not 
absolutely  so.  Human  vices  can  often  be  shown  to  be  due  to  the 
survival  of  once  valuable  mental  traits  under  new  conditions 
where  they  are  bad,  but  where  as  evolution  goes  on  they  are 
bound  in  time  to  be  eradicated.  The  author  believes  that  this  is 
true  of  alcoholism — for  in  primitive  conditions  only  mild  intoxi- 
cants were  known,  were  not  very  plentiful,  and  in  promoting  con- 
viviality and  good  will  brought  peace  and  harmony  within  the 
social  group ;  of  ^xcessive  sexual  propensities — for  in  earlier 
times  with  a  greater  death  rate  more  births  were  necessary,  and 
besides,  even  today,  to  sex  energy  sublimated  (i.  e.,  turned 
into  other  channels),  we  owe  much  of  our  literature,  art,  music, 
and  intellectual  and  athletic  activity  generally ;  and  of  gam- 
bling— for  primitive  man  had  to  risk  his  life  constantly  in 
search  for  food  and  conflict  with  his  enemies,  and  he  who  was 
willing  to  venture  nothing  could  gain  nothing.  And  so  in  many 
other  human  frailties — pugnacity  leading  to  war,  greed  and 
avarice  leading  to  exploitation  and  profiteering,  vain  self 
display  leading  to  prodigal  extravagance  and  wastefulness, 
envy  and  jealousy  of  the  more  successful  leading  to  the  fos- 
tering of  class  consciousness  and  demands  for  the  dictator- 
ship of  the  proletariat — it  would  be  possible  to  discover  human 
qualities  that  with  intelligent  guidance  and  further  evolution 
will  develop  into  positive  virtues. 

But  such  considerations  do  not  suggest  a  world  of  artistic 
harmony  in  which  these  apparent  evils  are  merely  moments 
in  a  temporal  succession  that  in  its  eternal  wholeness  is  per- 
fection to  an  Absolute  Mind.  They  rather  seem  to  indicate  a 
universe  that  is  gradually  growing  better  under  the  guidance 
of  a  Power  that  is  working  for  righteousness  through  the 


390  GOD  AND  EVIL 

activity  of  human  minds  and  human  wills.  With  the  inspiration 
of  this  immanent  God  working  within  them,  men  are  rapidly 
mastering  the  harsh  conditions  of  their  physical  environment, 
gradually  achieving  mutual  love  and  justice  in  social  organ- 
izations, and  slowly  but  surely  rising  to  finer  heights  of  individ- 
ual character. 

No  doubt  the  Divine  Power  immanent  within  us,  with  a  wider 
time  span  than  ours,  can  see  the  course  of  this  progress  more 
fully  than  we,  and  to  such  a  Being  very  much  that  seems  un- 
mitigated evil  to  us  is  seen  to  be  tending  ultimately  in  the 
direction  of  good.  In  a  future  life  we  may  hope  to  share  in 
this  larger  insight. 

To  the  service  of  this  God  we  owe  our  fullest  loyalty.  As 
we  seek  our  own  highest  development  as  individuals  and  the  good 
of  our  families  and  friends,  of  our  churches,  our  cities,  our 
nation,  and  humanity,  we  are  serving  Him.  For  we,  as  individ- 
uals and  as  a  race,  are  an  organic  part  of  the  universe,  and  the 
only  part  with  which  we  come  into  contact  that  is  capable  of 
forming  rational  and  moral  ends.  It  is  only  through  us  human 
beings  (so  far  as  we  can  judge)  that  the  rational  and  moral 
ends  of  God  can  be  realized  upon  this  particular  planet.  Ours 
is  a  grave  responsibility,  and  a  splendid  opportunity.  The 
closer  our  intimacy  with  Him,  the  more  wholehearted  will  be 
our  consecration  to  our  tasks,  and  the  stronger  will  be  our  wills. 
Wherefore  let  us  run  with  courage  the  race  that  is  set  before  us, 
looking  unto  Him  as  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith. 

REFERENCES 

*ARTHTTH  KENYOX  ROGERS,  Religious  Conception  of  the  World, 
pp.  231-260. 

*DURAND  DRAKE,  Problems  of  Religion,  Chapter  XIII. 
*GEOHOE   GALLOWAY,  Principles  of  Religious  Development,  pp.   318-333. 
*E.  C.  WILM,  Problem  of  Religion,  pp.  50-52;  215-232. 
•WILLIAM   ADAMS   BKOWX,   Christian   Theology   in   Outline,   pp.   202-210; 
Chapters  VII-X. 

*ALEXAXDER  BALMAIJT  BRUCE,  Apologetics,  pages  58-70. 
*KAUFMANN  KOHI.ER.  Jewish  Theology,  Part  I,  especially  Chapter  XXIX. 
*L.   T.    HOBHOUSE,   Morals   in   Evolution,  3d    ed.,   pp.   496-503;    634-C37 
Development  and  Purpose,  Part  II,  Chapters  V,  VI. 

BERNARD  BOSANQUET,  Principle  of  Individuality  and  Value,  Lecture  VIT. 
Value  find  Destiny  of  the  Individual,  Lecture  VII. 

W.  R.  SORLEY.  Moral  Values  and  the  Idea  of  God,  pp.  329,  f;  401-401; 
427,  f;  469-475;  494-504;  509-526. 

JAMES  WARD,  The  Realm  of  Ends,  Lectures  XI,  XV-XVII. 
S.  ALEXANDER,  Space,  Time,  and  Deity,  Vol.  II,  pp.  273-286;  419-423. 
*WIT.I.IAM  JAMES 
*JosiAir  ROYCE 

*HASTINT,S  RASHDALL      \-   See  Notes  to  this  Chapter. 
•F.  C.  S.  SCHILLER 
*JoiiK  STUART  MILL 


CHAPTER  XXI 
GOD  AND  HUMAN  FREEDOM 

THIS  chapter  will  have  for  its  purpose  the  consideration  of 
the  last  of  the  three  requirements  which  we  have  seen  (1)  that 
any  satisfactory  theory  of  the  nature  of  God  must  be  able  to 
meet.  If  in  prayer  and  other  religious  experiences  man  receives 
the  support  of  a  Being  so  powerful  as  the  directing  force 
in  the  purposive  development  of  the  universe  must  be,  how  is 
the  fact  of  His  great  power  to  be  reconciled  with  the  freedom  of 
the  human  will,  and  the  moral  responsibility  of  man? 

I — Traditional  Theism 

For  traditional  theism,  with  its  doctrine  that  an  omnipotent 
God  created  man  along  with  the  rest  of  the  universe,  this  prob- 
lem took  the  form  of  showing  how,  if  God  is  omnipotent,  man's 
will  can  be  free,  so  that  he  is  morally  responsible  for  what  he 
does.  Christian  theists  offered  various  solutions.  An  extreme 
position  was  that  of  John  Calvin  and  his  followers,  2.  They 
insisted  unqualifiedly  upon  the  absolute  omnipotence  and 
omniscience  of  God,  and  were  willing  to  accept  the  consequence 
that  man's  every  action  was  foreseen  and  willed  by  God  when 
He  created  the  world,  and  that  it  pleased  God  to  decree  that 
certain  men  whom  He  elected  of  His  own  good  pleasure,  with- 
out any  merit  on  their  part  whatever,  should  be  impelled  by 
the  irresistible  grace  of  God  to  accept  Christ  and  be  saved, 
whereas  the  rest  of  mankind  were  similarly  doomed  by  divine 
decree  not  to  receive  the  salvation  of  Christ  and,  as  a  con- 
sequence, to  suffer  the  pangs  of  Hell  forever. 

The  more  rigid  Calvinists  (supralapsarians)  went  so  far  as 
to  say  that  God  decreed  the  sin  and  fall  of  man  as  a  means  to 
the  ultimate  salvation  of  the  elect ;  the  moderate  Calvinists 
(infralapsarians)  said  that  God  did  not  foreordain,  but  merely 
permitted  the  fall  of  mankind.  Calvinists  of  both  types  were 
relentlessly  logical  in  deducing  and  accepting  the  consequences 
of  the  doctrines  of  divine  creation,  omnipotence,  and  omni- 
science. At  the  same  time  they  always  insisted  that  man  fell  of 

391 


392  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

his  own  free  will,  and  that  God  is  in  no  manner  blameworthy 
for  his  fall  and  present  sinful  condition.  To  reconcile  the 
absolutely  sovereign  power  of  God  with  these  last  assertions, 
Calvinistic  theologians  set  forth  elaborate  arguments  that 
were  more  subtle  than  convincing. 

In  opposition  to  the  Calvinists  the  Arminians  (2)  were  willing 
to  restrict  somewhat  the  absolute  sovereignty  of  God,  in  order 
to  give  fuller  recognition  to  the  freedom  of  the  human  will. 
God,  in  creating  mankind,  elected  some  to  salvation  and  others 
to  reprobation,  but  only  because  He  foresaw  their  final  faith 
or  disbelief.  Every  man,  of  his  own  free  choice  accepts  or 
rejects  the  grace  freely  offered  through  the  atonement  of 
Christ  to  all.  God  has  given  man  this  freedom  of  choice,  and 
He  in  no  way  determines  his  actions.  Man's  personal  respon- 
sibility is  complete.  Still,  even  on  this  view,  to  save  the  divine 
omniscience,  it  had  to  be  admitted  that  God  knew,  when  He 
created  mankind,  which  men  would  fall  and  which  would  not. 
Calvinism  and  Arminianism  represent  the  two  opposite  poles 
between  which  other  Protestant  solutions  of  the  problem  of 
freedom  range. 

The  official  position  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  has  been 
in  some  respects  non-committal,  allowing  liberty  of  interpret- 
ation to  the  different  theological  schools  within  the  Church. 
However,  the  doctrine  of  St.  Augustine  that  God  has  given 
to  all  men  sufficient  grace  to  permit  them  to  accept  of  the  sal- 
vation of  Christ,  but  that  he  has  only  afforded  efficacious 
grace  to  His  elect,  is  in  some  form  or  other  generally  agreed 
upon.  As  against  certain  Jansenist  heresies,  the  orthodox 
Catholic  systems  maintain,  "each  in  its  own  peculiar  way,  that 
sufficient  grace  is  truly  and  really  sufficient,  so  that  it  is 
intrinsically  possible  to  obey  it,  although  in  fact,  man  never 
follows  its  inspiration,  and  also  that  it  is  intrinsically  possible 
not  to  obey  the  impulse  of  efficacious  grace ;  although  such  a 
disobedience  will  never  occur  de  facto"  3. 

The  difficulties  that  the  old  theism  has  had  with  these  prob- 
lems, have  evidently  been  accentuated  by  its  insistence  on  the 
infinite,  eternal,  and  unchangeable  nature  of  a  God  that  is  all 
powerful,  all  wise,  and  all  good,  and  who  has  created  all  things. 
The  difficulties  persist,  however,  to  some  degree  in  any  doctrine 
that  maintains  the  absolute  and  eternal  perfection  of  God  in 
all  respects,  no  matter  if  He  be  regarded  as  eternally  creating 
the  universe  instead  of  having  created  it  at  a  definite  period 


FREEDOM  IN  ETHICS  393 

in  time,  or  even  if  He  be  thought  of,  not  as  Creator,  but  simply 
as  the  Absolute  Mind  constituting  the  rational  principle  of 
the  world  order  as  a  whole.  Can  these  difficulties  be  solved 
at  all?  Is  it  useless  to  waste  time  upon  them?  Or  is  it  only 
worth  while  to  discuss  them  as  a  pastime,  as  Milton  suggests : — 

"Others  apart  sat  on  a  hill  retired, 
In  thoughts  more   elevate,  and   reasoned   high 
Of  providence,  foreknowledge,  will  and  fate, 
Fixed  fate,  free  will,  foreknowledge  absolute, 
And  found  no  end,  in  wandering  mazes  lost."  4. 

One  mistake  that  the  old  theologies  made  was  to  attack  tnese 
problems  at  the  wrong  end,  to  begin  with  fixed  conceptions  of 
God,  and  from  these  to  deduce  the  consequences  for  human 
beings.  Now  we  know  a  great  deal  more  about  human  exper- 
ience than  we  do  about  the  nature  of  God.  We  can  with  some 
degree  of  confidence  analyze  the  human  consciousness  and 
observe  the  facts  there.  Surely,  knowing  far  less  than  God,  we 
should  not  be  warranted  in  formulating  a  theory  about  His 
nature  and  His  relation  to  the  human  will  that  is  not  in  com- 
plete agreement  with  our  conclusions  regarding  the  human 
moral  consciousness.  Let  us,  therefore,  (1)  from  the  stand- 
point of  ethics,  consider  what  principles  can  be  derived  from 
generally  accepted  moral  conceptions,  and  see  what  conclusions 
about  the  human  will  necessarily  follow.  (2)  Next,  let  us 
estimate  the  significance  of  these  conclusions  in  the  light  of 
psychology  and  the  natural  sciences.  (3)  Having  thus  ascer- 
tained what  human  freedom  appears  to  be  in  our  conscious 
experience  as  interpreted  by  ethics,  psychology,  and  naturat~~-4 
science,  we  shall  be  prepared  to  consider  what  conceptions  of 
the  nature  of  God  will  best  accord  with  it.  We  shall  thus  be 
arguing  from  the  known,  or  at  least,  the  relatively  certain,  to 
the  less  known  and  more  uncertain;  an  order  of  investigation 
that  surely  is  more  philosophical  and  convincing  than  the  de- 
ductive procedure  of  traditional  dogmatic  theism. 

II — Freedom  In  Ethics 

Ethical  science  is  simply  a  careful  examination  of  the  moral 
judgments  of  mankind,  and  of  the  fundamental  principles  and 
implications  that  underlie  them.  The  author  submits  the  fol- 
lowing statements  as  descriptive  of  the  moral  opinions  usually 
held,  or  at  least  implied,  in  our  judgments  of  our  own  moral 
conduct  and  that  of  other  men.  (1)  If  an  adult  human  being  is 
sane,  he  is  morally  responsible  for  what  he  does.  A  child  is 


394  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

responsible  so  far  as  he  is  mature  enough  to  understand  the 
significance  of  his  actions.  In  judging  the  conduct  of  any  one, 
due  allowance  must  be  made  for  his  ignorance  of  circumstances ; 
and,  if  he  has  acted  impetuously  and  under  extreme  provocation 
this  must  be  taken  into  account.  Charity  is  called  for  also  in 
passing  upon  persons  handicapped  by  a  bad  heredity,  or  up- 
bringing in  a  vicious  environment.  But  the  general  principle 
holds  that  everyone  deserves  moral  approval  and  condemnation 
for  his  conduct,  i.  e.,  for  all  actions  that  are  the  result  of  the 
normal  operation  of  his  mental  processes.  In  moral  judgments 
of  our  own  conduct  and  that  of  others,  we  assume  that  men  are 
free  to  the  extent  that  their  actions  are  the  outcome  of  the 
processes  of  sane  minds  acting  under  ordinary  condition:-,. 
Not  only  our  criminal  law,  but  all  the  judgments  of  social 
approval  and  condemnation  that  we  pass  upon  ourselves  and 
others  proceed  on  this  basis.  This  sort  of  freedom  it  will  be 
convenient  to  designate  as  Psychological  Freedom. 

(2)  In  another  sense,  no  one  is  really  free  when  he  acts 
wrongly.  Theologians  have  been  correct  in  speaking  of  "the 
bondage  of  sin,"  and  moralists  of  "the  slavery  of  vice."  In 
this  sense,  no  man  is  free  when  he  yields  to  an  impelling  temp- 
tation, and  does  what  he  knows  to  be  wrong.  To  be  free  is  to 
act  in  accordance  with  one's  true  nature  as  a  man,  to  be  loyal 
to  one's  ideals.,  to  realize  to  the  full  one's  capacities.  As  manjS- 
a  social  being,  this  means  that  his  freedom  is  ordinarily  Tound 
in  adapting  himself  to  the  social  order  about  him,  and  realiz- 
ing his  capacities  within  it,  by  making  his  contribution  to  the 
common  good  and  receiving  in  return  the  aid  and  good  will  of 
others.  In  some  circumstances,  however,  a  man  may  identify 
himself  with,  and  so  seek  his  freedom  in,  a  social  order  that 
from  his  point  of  view  is  superior  to  that  immediately  about 
him.  A  professional  man  or  scientific  investigator  may  prefer 
the  approval  of  his  fellow  specialists  who  alone  can  understand 
and  evaluate  what  he  is  doing.  The  Stoics  thought  of  them- 
selves as  "citizens  of  the  universe,"  and  the  early  Christians 
found  their  citizenship  "in  heaven." 

Freedom  in  this  sense  is  every  one's  right,  meaning  that 
everyone  has  a  claim  upon  the  social  order  for  a  fair  opportun- 
ity to  make  the  most  of  himself  in  service  of  the  common  good. 
But  this  kind  of  freedom,  after  all,  is  something  that  one  must 
achieve  for  oneself.  A  man  gains  freedom  in  successful  work 
in  his  profession;  as  he  becomes  efficient  in  serving  others  he 


PSYCHOLOGY  395 

serves  himself.  In  a  similar  way  he  gains  freedom  in  the  family 
as  a  good  husband  and  father:  in  the  state,  as  a  good  citizen 
who  exercises  a  deserved  influence  with  his  fellow  citizens  and 
wins  their  confidence;  in  the  church  or  synagogue,  as  a  parti- 
cipant in  and  contributor  to  its  spiritual  life  and  its  consecra- 
tion to  God.  In  this  sense  no  one,  of  course,  is  absolutely  free ; 
for  every  individual  has  moral  imperfections  of  some  kind  or 
other,  and  no  social  order  is  perfect  in  either  the  ideals  that 
it  sets  before  its  members  or  the  opportunities  it  is  able  to  afford 
them  for  self-realization.  But  to  the  extent  that  individual 
men  and  groups  of  men  are  successful  in  achieving  moral 
worth,  they  are  free.  This  type  of  freedom  we  may  call 
Ethical  Freedom. 

Now  is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  our  moral  judg- 
ments probably  correctly  interpret  human  freedom  and  human 
responsibility?  Society  has  developed  on  the  basis  of  these 
assumptions.  They  underlie  our  laws  and  institutions.  They 
form  the  basis  of  our  personal  estimates  of  our  own  conduct 
and  of  other  men.  These  judgments  meet  the  pragmatic  test; 
they  have  worked.  Society,  by  acting  upon  them,  has  been  able  to 
maintain  order,  to  afford  opportunity  for  men  to  cooperate 
with  one  another,  and  for  civilization  to  advance.  Man  could 
hardly  have  been  successful  if  in  his  moral  judgments  he  had 
been  acting  upon  delusions  regarding  his  own  nature  and 
capacities.  It  therefore  follows  that  psychologists  and  natural 
scientists  must  recognize  psychological  freedom  and  moral  re- 
sponsibility as  descriptive  of  the  will  of  the  ordinary  human 
being,  and  ethical  freedom  as  an  ideal  of  which  man  is  not  only 
able  to  conceive  but  also  to  make  more  or  less  successful  efforts 
to  attain.  These,  then,  are  facts  which  a  reasonable  psychol- 
ogy cannot  challenge,  but  must  accept  and  interpret. 

Ill — Psychology  and  the  Natural  Sciences 

Most  of  the  actions  that  a  person  performs  in  the  course 
of  a  day  are  mere  matters  of  routine ;  they  do  not  involve  delib- 
eration and  choice.  They  therefore  do  not  raise  the  question 
of  the  freedom  of  the  will.  All  psychologists  are  agreed  that 
nine-tenths  of  conscious  human  actions  can  be  accounted  for 
in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  reflex  action,  instinct,  and  habit. 
It  TiiF  only  in  respect  to  the  comparatively  few  instances  in 
which  conscious  selection  is  made  between  two  or  more  possible 
acts  that  the  problem  enters. 


396  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

If  then,  our  acts  are  ever  undetermined,  it  is  in  cases  where 
conflicting  ideas  are  present  in  the  mind  at  the  same  time. 
Now  suppose  two  such  conflicting  ideas  are  present — say  going 
to  the  movie  show  versus  staying  in  one's  room  and  studying 
— which  will  be  acted  upon?  This,  psychologists  tell  us,  is  a 
question  of  attention.  If,  when  the  thought  of  the  movie  en- 
ters consciousness,  the  idea  of  tomorrow's  recitation  slips  out 
of  attention  altogether,  one  will  forthwith  start  for  the  movie 
theatre.  If,  on  the  contrary,  attractive  as  the  thought  of  the 
rnovie  is,  and  dry  and  disagreeable  as  is  tomorrow's  logic  les- 
son, in  the  end  thoughts  of  the  unpleasant  consequences  of 
failure  in  the  recitation,  and  of  the  importance  of  the  course, 
in  logic  as  a  part  of  one's  liberal  education  hold  the  attention 
exclusively,  all  thought  of  the  movies  may  slip  out  of  con- 
sciousness entirely,  and  one  may  become  completely  absorbed 
in  the  treatise  on  logic. 

The  question  resolves  itself,  accordingly,  into  a  question  of 
the  nature  of  attention.  In  most  cases,  attention  is  spontane- 
ous, as  it  moves  without  effort  from  one  topic  to  another.  How- 
ever, in  some  instances,  attention  wavers  between  two  objects; 
in  these  cases  a  conscious  voluntary  effort  may  be  exercised 
in  favor  of  one  of  them.  If  the  effort  is  successful,  one  may 
no  longer  be  disturbed  by  the  playing  of  a  mandolin  in  the 
next  room,  or  by  subsequent  thoughts  of  the  movie  show,  and 
the  principles  of  logic  become  all  absorbing;  there  is  no  longer 
a  conflict  of  ideas  and  impulses,  and  voluntary  attention  has 
been  replaced  by  spontaneous  attention.  If  the  effort  is  un- 
successful, one  may  presently  become  oblivious  of  the  logic 
lesson  and  become  absorbed  in  the  mandolin  music,  or  find  one- 
self walking  down  stairs  on  the  way  to  the  movie  theatre ;  in 
this  case  involuntary  attention  has  given  place  to  spontaneous 
attention.  Or  attention  may  fluctuate ;  by  effort  one  attends  to 
the  logic  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  his  attention  is  again 
diverted  by  the  rival  idea;  by  effort  it  is  again  concentrated 
upon  the  logic,  only  again  to  wander.  Experimental  psycho- 
logists say  that  voluntary  attention  is  possible  only  for  a  few 
seconds  at  a  time;  the  topic  must  then  unfold  itself  and  claim 
spontaneous  attention  or  the  mind  will  wander.  It  is  obvious 
that  the  successfulness  of  effort  on  any  given  occasion  will 
depend  to  a  considerable  extent  upon  past  choices.  One  who 
in  the  past  has  kept  before  his  mind  the  purposes  of  a  college 
education  does  not  have  a  serious  struggle  to  study  when  he 


PSYCHOLOGY  397 

ought  to  do  so ;  one  who  has  previously  succumbed  to  every 
pleasing  distraction  finds  it  almost  impossible  to  concentrate 
his  attention  upon  any  difficult  intellectual  task. 

The  issue  between  psychologists  who  are  determinists  and 
those  who  are  indeterminists  is  whether,  in  cases  of  effort  and 
conscious  choice,  the  person's  decision  is  absolutely  or  only  in 
large  measure  determined  by  the  constitution  of  his  mind  and 
nervous  system  and  his  past  choices ;  the  determinists  believing 
that  it  is  absolutely  determined,  while  the  indeterminists  think 
that  there  enters  an  element  of  chance,  so  that  the  person's 
free  choice,  undetermined  by  the  past,  is  able  to  tip  the  scales 
between  two  nearly  balanced  motives.  This  free  choice  is  exer- 
cised during  the  few  seconds  of  voluntary  attention.  By  con- 
sistently, in  every  case  of  conflict  between  nearly  balanced 
motives,  deciding  in  favor  of  virtue  one  man  may  ultimately 
become  a  moral  hero  of  invincible  will,  whereas  another  who 
invariably  succumbs  to  temptations  may  ultimately  become 
vreak  and  dissolute. 

Psychologists  admit  that  it  is  unlikely  that  it  will  ever  be 
possible  to  devise  experiments  that  will  absolutely  settle  this 
question.  Never  will  it  be  possible  to  calculate  the  precise 
amount  of  nervous  energy  stored  up  in  the  various  brain  cells, 
and  decide  whether  a  subsequent  action  is  a  mathematical  re- 
sultant, or  whether  an  almost  infmitesimally  small  unphysical 
force  has  entered  in,  and  played  a  decisive  role.  So  prefer- 
ence must  be  given  to  whichever  theory  appears  most  reason- 
able. William  James  (5)  decided  in  favor  of  indeterminism ;  he 
believed  that  the  phenomenon  of  effort  involves  a  novel  factor 
that  enters  into  conscious  processes  and  that  cannot  be  account- 
ed for  by  psychology.  Professor  William  McDougall  has  tak- 
en issue  with  James,  and  contends  that  the  presence  of  effort 
can  probably  be  attributed  to  the  operation  of  sentiments  that 
have  developed  about  the  self  in  accordance  with  psychological 
principles,  which  he  describes. 

The  fact  that  the  natural  sciences  everywhere  maintain  the 
doctrine  of  uniform  and  necessary  causation  has  led  most  psy- 
chologists to  favor  determinism.  They  wish  psychology  to 
become  as  exact  as  natural  sciences  now  are.  To  admit  an 
undetermined  factor  appears  to  them  utterly  contrary  to  the 
spirit  of  science.  However,  not  all  philosophers,  not  even  all 
of  them  who  are  most  familiar  with  the  natural  sciences,  are 
willing  to  agree  unqualifiedly  to  the  absolute  uniformity  of  nat- 


398  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

ural  laws.  James  believes  that  an  element  of  chance  enters  not 
only  into  human  volition,  but  also  into  the  very  nature  of  the 
universe, — a  doctrine  that  he  called  "tychism,"  7. 

Professor  James  Ward,  another  philosopher  well  grounded 
in  science,  in  his  Realm  of  Ends  has  called  attention  to  the 
fact  that  the  statistician  in  the  field  of  economics  is  able  to 
tabulate  averages  that  appear  to  be  constant,  although  he 
knows  that  the  conditions  that  give  his  averages  vary  consid- 
erably among  the  different  individual  cases.  In  the  natural 
sciences,  on  the  other  hand,  the  peculiar  conditions  that  under- 
lie particular  cases  are  unknown  to  him,  so  he  assumes  abso- 
lute uniformity.  So  Professor  Ward  believes  in  a  certain 
amount  of  "contingency"  in  nature.  It  is  indeed  possible  to 
claim  that  the  absolute  uniformity  of  nature  is  an  unproved 
assumption,  which,  though  justifiable  for  the  purposes  of  nat- 
ural sciences,  is  not  absolutely  true.  Such  laws  as  inertia  and 
gravity  do  not  literally  describe  the  facts  as  we  actually  see 
them  before  us  in  every  day  life ;  they  can  only  be  made  to 
work  out  in  the  artificial  conditions  of  the  laboratory ;  they  are 
formulations  of  the  tendencies  that  matter  assumes  on  the 
average.  Statistics  show  that  about  so  many  people  die  every 
year  of  each  of  various  diseases,  that  about  so  many  are  born, 
about  so  many  marry,  and  so  on.  Yet  the  circumstances  sur- 
rounding each  death,  birth  and  marriage  are  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctive. The  so-called  uniformities  of  the  exact  sciences  are 
of  the  same  general  character,  and  ignore  the  differences. 
Dr.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller  points  out  that  in  physical  and  chemical 
experiments,  millions  of  atoms  are  being  dealt  with  at  the  same 
time.  "The  least  speck  visible  under  the  microscope  is  com- 
posed of  atoms  by  the  million.  Consequently  the  regularity 
we  observe  may  very  well  be  that  of  an  average."  If  individ- 
ual atoms  exercise  choice  we  should  never  be  able  to  observe  it ; 
dealing  as  we  must  only  with  millions  at  a  time  we  could  only 
observe  general  averages,  8. 

So  Professor  Ward  and  Dr.  Schiller,  like  James,  believe  that 
there  is  a  contingent  element  in  nature.  The  future  is  never 
absolutely  determined  by  the  past:  that  is  why  prophecy  is  so 
difficult.  Once  an  event  has  taken  place,  either  in  the  life  of 
a  nation  or  of  a  great  man,  historians  and  biographers  can 
set  to  work  and  explain  the  causes  why  the  event  occurred  in 
precisely  the  way  that  it  did.  But  historians  and  biographers, 
able  though  they  are  to  point  out  factors  that  will  influence 


DETERMINISM  899 

the  future  decision  of  a  nation  or  a  man,  can  seldom  predict 
events  with  certainty:  that  is  because  a  contingent  element, 
always  enters  human  affairs;  this  is  the  element  of  choice  and 
free  will.  Only  after  the  event,  when  the  choice  has  been  made, 
is  it  possible  to  look  at  it  retrospectively  and  argue  that  it  was 
bound  to  happen  in  that  way. 

We  see,  then,  that  while  the  tendency  both  in  psychology 
and  in  natural  science  is  in  favor  of  absolute  uniformity  of 
laws  and  determinism,  the  opposite  position  is  perfectly  ten- 
able, so  far  as  present  knowledge  goes,  and  that  it  is  held  by 
some  authorities  of  high  repute. 

IV — Determinism  and  Indeterminism 

Undoubtedly  the  chief  influences  that  have  led  many  thinkers 
to  favor  indeterminism  have  been  ethical  considerations.  We 
constantly  assume  psychological  freedom  and  moral  respon- 
sibility. Nothing  can  be  more  certain  than  that  these  exist. 
To  believe  the  contrary  would  subvert  morality;  it  would  lead 
men  to  think  that  they  could  never  act  otherwise  than  they  do, 
that  they  are  mere  creatures  of  necessity.  It  is  right  to  hold 
men  morally  responsible  for  their  deeds,  just  because  they 
could  have  acted  otherwise  if  they  had  chosen  to  do  so.  If 
we  punish  wrongdoers  by  law  when  necessary,  and  by  the 
condemnation  of  public  opinion  when  that  is  enough,  they  will 
remember,  and  act  differently  next  time.  Others  who  are 
tempted  will  be  deterred  by  fear  of  like  punishments.  Every 
young  man  is  the  architect  of  his  own  fortune,  and  by  his 
separate  choices  makes  his  character  what  it  ultimately  be- 
comes when  by  middle  life  he  is  more  largely  a  creature  of 
habit. 

The  author  believes  that  he  has  given  a  brief,  but  so  far  as 
it  goes,  an  accurate  statement  of  what  indeterminists  really 
mean  by  their  doctrine.  They  do  not  deny  that  a  man's  actions 
are  for  the  most  part  determined  by  his  present  character,  or 
that  the  latter  is  the  result  of  his  past  life.  Caricatures  of 
the  position,  made  by  its  opponents,  often  misrepresent  it. 
Thus  James  complains  that  John  Fiske  caricatures  indeterm- 
inism when  he  says,  if  it  were  true,  that  in  the  case  of  a  murder 
we  should  have  no  more  reason  for  suspecting  the  worst  enemy 
than  the  best  friend  of  the  murdered  man,  that  the  mother 
might  strangle  her  first  born  child,  and  the  miser  cast  his  treas- 


400  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

ure  into  the  sea.  Fiske,  here,  James  says,  does  not  distinguish 
between  the  "possibles  which  really  tempt  a  man  and  those 
which  tempt  him  not  at  all.  Free  will  [i.  e,,  indeterminism]  like 
psychology,  deals  with  the  former  alternatives  exclusively,"  9. 
What  James  means,  of  course,  is  that  any  man's  character  is 
sufficiently  fixed  by  his  past  so  that  some  possible  courses  of 
action  will  not  tempt  him  at  all,  whereas  his  character  in  other 
respects  is  not  absolutely  fixed  and  different  alternatives  do 
appeal  to  him,  between  which  he  is  actually  free  to  make  a 
choice.  According  to  the  way  his  choices  are  made  his  char- 
acter becomes  set,  and  the  plane  from  which  future  choices  can 
be  made  will  be  different. 

While  ethical  considerations  are  thought  by  many  psycho- 
logists and  philosophers  to  favor  indeterminism,  probably  the 
majority  are  determinists.  Moral  responsibility  and  psycho- 
logical freedom,  they  say,  are  entirely  compatible  with  deter- 
minism, because  it  is  your  own  personality  that  determines  your 
actions,  10.  This  frees  determinism  from  the  objections  of  fatal- 
ism, which  is  altogether  different.  You  are  your  personality ; 
it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  between  you  and  yourself.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  objected  that  according  to  the  indeter- 
minist  view,  it  is  not  you,  yourself,  your  personality  as  you  know 
yourself  and  as  others  know  you,  that  altogether  determines 
what  you  do.  There  intrudes  some  strange,  unaccountable 
element  of  chance,  that  inclines  the  beam  and  makes  the  choice 
between  nearly  equally  balanced  motives ;  this  element  cannot  be 
your  character,  the  outgrowth  of  your  past  conduct — for  your 
character,  the  indeterminist  admits,  is  fixed  when  a  given  action 
is  performed — but  some  weird  outside  force  that  is  unaccount- 
able. It  seems  absurd  that  you  should  be  held  responsible  for 
this  unaccountable  factor  that  is  not  yourself;  to  punish  you 
for  its  actions  could  only  be  actuated  by  immoral  anger,  since 
no  one  can  predict  how  this  punishment  will  affect  this  unknown 
factor  in  the  future.  Just  so  far  as  an  unknown  element  is 
admitted  into  the  process  of  volition,  moral  responsibility  is 
.weakened.  (On  the  other  hand,  if,  as  the  determinist  claims,  a 
man's  conduct  is  wholly  the  outcome  of  his  own  character,  he 
can  rightly  be  judged  and  praised  or  condemned.  A  just  re- 
quital will  have  a  salutary  effect  upon  his  character,  and  im- 
prove his  conduct  for  the  future.  The  determinist  father  might 
;ay  to  his  small  son,  "I  know  you  couldn't  help  running  away 
.  from  school  today,  but  I  am  going  to  give  you  such  a  good 


DETERMINISM  401 

whipping  that  the  memory  of  it  will  prevent  you  from  feeling 
any  inclination  to  run  away  next  time."  In  a  similar  way  the 
punishments  of  the  state  (in  humane  institutions  where  some 
measure  of  self  government  is  allowed  the  inmates)  should  so 
reform  the  personalities  of  wrong  doers  that  when  they  are 
discharged  they  will  be  good  citizens. 

One  of  the  reasons  why  determinism  has  appeared  objec- 
tionable to  many  is  due,  it  is  urged,  to  a  misunderstanding  of 
what  it  really  means.  It  is  necessary  to  recognize  the  distinc- 
tion between  mechanical  determination  and  ideological  determ- 
mation.,.  Inorganic  objects  are  mechanically  determined.  A 
particle  of  matter  is  bound  to  move  in  a  certain  direction  as  a 
resultant  of  physical  forces.  Now,  as  we  saw  in  Chapter 
XVIII,  even  the  behavior  of  plants  and  lowly  animals  is  de- 
termined largely  by  the  whole  and  part  relation ;  even  their 
actions  are  not  wholly  due  to  mechanical  determination.  In 
case  of  man,  who  can-  remember,  imagine,  and  reason,  considera- 
tions of  past  experience  and  future  possibilities  play  a  part 
in  the  mental  processes  that  effect  his  decisions ;  his  choices 
are  by  no  means  mechanical.  They  are  teleological.  His  pur- 
poses determine  his  conduct.  These  purposes  have  developed 
from  his  past  decisions ;  and  on  them  as  a  basis  his  future  plans  ] 
and  ideals  will  develop.  Man  is  not  like  a  clod.  His  conduct 
is  not  a  mere  resultant  of  the  physical  forces  surrounding  him 
at  the  moment  in  space.  Thoughts  of  past  experiences  in  dis- 
tant places,  purposes  whose  fruition  will  not  come  until  a  later 
time  in  a  different  environment  may  influence  a  man  in  his  deci- 
sions. A  man  may  have  in  thought  the  conditions  that  will  sur- 
round his  family  years  after  he  will  be  in  his  grave,  as  he  makes 
his  testament;  a  statesman  may  plan  for  future  generations 
of  his  nation ;  the  purpose  of  the  founder  of  a  religious  move- 
ment may  include  all  mankind  in  ages  to  come. 

The  determinist  therefore  urges  that  to  say  that  a  man's 
actions  are  determined  by  the  contents  of  his  consciousness, 
including  his  moral  purposes  and  ideals,  sufficiently  recognizes 
psychological  freedom  and  moral  responsibility,  and  gives  a 
satisfactory  basis  for  ethics.  He  maintains  that  it  is  both 
unnecessary  and  undesirable  to  introduce  any  factor  into  the 
process  that  cannot  be  rationally  explained  and  scientifically 
accounted  for. 

The  reader  is  free  to  make  his  choice  between  indeterminism 
and  determinism.  Both  recognize  the  principles  of  psycholog- 


402  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

ical  freedom  and  moral  responsibility,  though  their  explana- 
tions are  somewhat  different.  Both  are  compatible  with  what 
was  said  regarding  ethical  freedom.  We  are  now  ready  to 
return  to  considerations  of  the  nature  of  God  in  relation  to 
human  freedom,  11. 

V — Indeterminism  and  God 

Following  the  precedent  of  the  previous  chapter,  we  shall 
center  the  discussion  of  the  nature  of  God  in  relation  to  human 
freedom  about  the  philosophical  positions  of  William  James 
and  Josiah  Royce  who  will  respectively  serve  as  representatives 
of  indeterminism  and  determinism. 

James,  as  we  have  seen,  believed  in  a  finite  God,  with  whom 
we  ought  to  cooperate,  and  he  believed  that  if  we  do  so,  we  shall 
be  able  to  make  the  universe  better.  It  seemed-  to  James  that  if 
the  universe  really  were  already  perfect  and  complete  in  an  ab- 
solute and  eternal  sense,  to  the  mind  of  God,  that  there  would 
be  nothing  of  consequence  for  us  to  do.  On  the  contrary,  he 
earnestly  believed  that  there  is  much  in  the  world  for  us  to  do, 
and  that  the  facts  of  psychological  freedom  and  moral  respon- 
sibility, necessarily  imply  that  the  universe  is  imperfect  and 
incomplete.  We  are  free  to  cooperate  with  God  or  not  as  we 
choose,  in  the  indeterministic  sense ;  the  choice  is  before  us,  with 
the  implied  opportunity  and  responsibility. 

This  opposition  is  logically  connected  with  two  other  fea- 
tures of  James'  philosophy,  pluralism  and  tychism.  Most  phil- 
osophers have  always  been  monists,  and  have  believed  that  the 
world  is  one,  a  coherent  and  organized  whole,  whose  processes 
go  on  in  accordance  with  uniform  and  rational  principles,  and 
whose  parts  are  closely  connected  and  interrelated  from  what- 
ever standpoint  one  can  consider  them.  Monists  in  conse- 
quence are  determinists.  When  monists  have  believed  in  a  God, 
whether  as  external  to  finite  individuals,  or  as  immanent  in 
them,  or  both,  they  have  thought  of  the  uniform  and  rational 
principles  of  the  world  order  as  expressions  of  the  divine  Mind 
or  Will.  James,  however,  believed  that  such  conceptions  make 
man  a  mere  puppet  of  cosmic  processes,  with  no  opportunity 
to  exercise  any  personal  choice  or  initiative  of  his  own.  Mon- 
istic philosophies,  he  thought,  are  paralyzing  to  human  faith 
and  enthusiasm,  and  lead  to  passive  acquiescence  in  things  as 
they  are,  combined  perhaps  with  narcotising  assurance  that 


INDETERMINISM  403 

all,  as  it  is,  is  for  the  best  in  an  eternal  harmony  enjoyed  by 
God. 

In  opposition  to  monism,  therefore,  James  was  a  pluralist, 
and  believed  that  the  universe  consists  of  countless  individual 
persons  and  things.  These,  to  be  sure,  are  interrelated  so  as 
to  constitute  a  world  that  is  one  in  several  respects:  e.  g.,  as  a 
subject  of  discourse,  we  can  talk  of  "the  universe;"  it  is  con- 
tinuous in  space  and  time;  it  is  subject  to  continuous  lines  of 
influence,  like  gravity  and  heat  conduction;  men  are  conjoined 
in  a  vast  network  of  acquaintanceship,  and  an  enormous  num- 
ber of  things  in  the  world  serve  a  common  purpose.  But  the 
acquaintanceship  is  incomplete ;  not  everyone  knows  everyone 
else;  and  there  are  frequent  clashes  of  purposes  and  conflicting 
interests  in  the  world.  Aesthetic  union,  like  teleological  union, 
is  also  quite  incomplete.  The  world  is  imperfectly  unified. 
Our  freedom'  affords  us  the  opportunity  to  assist  in  making  it 
better  organized  and  more  harmonious  than  it  now  is. 

By  tychism,  James  meant  that  there  actually  enters  an  ele- 
ment of  chance  or  novelty,  both  in  our  own  minds  and  in  the 
universe.  For  James  the  mind  of  an  individual  is  a  "stream 
of  consciousness"  in  which,  as  in  a  river,  the  contents  are  in 
constant  change.  In-  conscious  choices  made  with  effort  a  novel 
factor,  undetermined  by  one's  past  life,  enters  in  and  effects 
the  decision ;  in  the  universe  as  a  whole,  the  decisions  of  finite 
wills  are  a  novel  element,  also,  unconditioned  in  any  way  by  the 
rest  of  the  world.  "Our  sense  of  'freedom'  supposes  that  some 
things  at  least  are  decided  here  and  now,  that  the  passing 
moment  may  contain  some  novelty,  be  an  original  starting 
point  of  events,  and  not  merely  transmit  a  push  from  some- 
where else,"  12.  James  never  worked  out  his  doctrines  of 
pluralism,  tychism,  and  meliorism  fully,  in  their  relation  with 
his  conception  of  a  finite  God,  but  they  all  clearly  imply  that 
God  has  no  absolute  control  over  the  conflicting  factors  in  the 
universe,  nor  over  the  unconditional  novelties  that  keep  appear- 
ing, but  that  the  universe  is  plastic,  and  can  be  rendered  better 
than  it  now  is  by  the  united  efforts  of  God  and  men. 

A  passage  by  Dr.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller  offers  an  indeterministic 
explanation  why  the  processes  of  nature  appear  to  us  to  pro- 
ceed by  mechanical  necessity  instead  of  as  the  free  acts  of  God. 
Individual  human  beings  overcome  faults  and  meet  difficulties 
by  habits  formed  of  their  free  choice.  These  habits  become 
matters  of  routine.  Man  is  freer,  however,  by  having  formed 


4-04  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

them.  They  enable  him  to  give  his  attention  to  other  choices. 
Now  God,  as  a  Being  higher  and  more  perfect  than  man,  is 
doubtless  more  often  than  man  able  to  meet  His  ends  by  habits 
He  has  already  formed,  methods  of  routine,  which  He  by  em- 
ploying is  more  free  than  He  would  be  without  them.  These 
methods  of  divine  action,  which  accordingly  appear  to  us  uni- 
form and  regular  are  readily  mistaken  by  us  for  mechanical 
necessity,  13. 

Other  pluralistic  defenders  of  the  conception  of  God  usually 
are  reluctant  to  press  His  finitude  so  far  as  James  does,  or  to 
admit,  to  as  large  an  extent  at  least,  that  the  universe  contains 
collisions  between  warring  elements  and  personalities.  Profes- 
sor Ward,  for  instance,  would  not.  He  indeed  concedes  that 
there  must  be  a  certain  amount  of  contingency  in  the  world  in 
order  to  make  it  a  truly  advancing  and  developing  universe, 
in  which  men  have  freedom  of  initiative,  and  to  satisfy  these 
requirements  he  is  willing  to  limit  the  complete  foreknowledge 
of  God.  God  would  not  really  be  so  great  as  He  is,  if  He  did 
not  allow  free  agencies  to  exist  along  with  Him.  A  divine 
creative  love  could  not  be  satisfied  with-  creatures  that  acted 
like  machines.  God  had  to  create  men  as  free  agents.  "But 
it  does  not  follow  that  with  a  world  of  such  free  agents  God 
will  always  or  ever  be  liable  to  surprises.  It  implies  that  he 
will  always  be  interested;  indeed  he  could  not  be  a  God  of  love 
if  he  were  not."  Yet  the  continuity  between  the  actual  and  the 
possible  and  his  complete  knowledge  of  both  make  his  main 
purpose  secure;  to  use  Martineau's  words,  "we  cannot  defeat 
his  aim,  but  can  only  vary  the  track,"  14.  This  reminds  one  of 
James'  earlier  view,  when  he  made  the  famous  comparison  of 
God  to  an  expert  chess  player  engaged  in  a  game  with  a  novice. 
"The  expert  intends  to  beat.  But  he  cannot  foresee  what  any 
one  actual  move  of  his  adversary  may  be.  He  knows,  however, 
all  the  possible  moves  of  the  latter ;  and  he  knows  in  advance 
how  to  meet  each  of  them  by  a  move  of  his  own  which  leads  in 
the  direction  of  victory,"  15. 

The  motive  that  actuates  interpretations  of  the  relation  be- 
tween God  and  men  along  the  lines  of  pluralism  and  indeterm- 
inism  is  to  assure  man  freedom  of  choice  and  moral  responsi- 
bility. Such  interpretations  differ  with  one  another  in  the 
degree  to  which  they  find  it  necessary  to  assume  that  God  is 
limited,  in  order  to  make  room  for  human  uniqueness,  freedom, 
and  initiative.  If  such  an  interpretation  were  to  limit  the 


JOSIAH  ROYCE  405 

power  of  God  to  so  great  an  extent  that  His  ability  to  assist 
men  would  appear  so  slight  that  men  would  lose  confidence  in 
the  efficacy  of  divine  assistance  through  prayer  and  other  forms 
of  religious  experience,  this  would  be  disastrous  to  religious 
faith.  But  none  of  the  interpretations  of  the  indeterminists 
to  which  reference  has  been  made  go  so  far  as  that.  Conse- 
quently there  appears  to  be  no  serious  objection  to  indeterm- 
inism,  so  far  as  the  needs  of  a  liberal  religious  faith  are  con- 
cerned. 

On  philosophical  grounds,  however,  pluralistic  and  indeter- 
ministic  interpretations  of  the  relationship  between  God  and  men 
are  open  to  serious  difficulties.  Indeterminism  is  claimed  by 
its  opponents  to  be  unable  to  locate  moral  responsibility  for 
the  individual  will  when  this  is  attributed  to  something  that 
is  not  the  person's  own  character.  James'  type  of  pluralism  is 
likewise  charged  with  being  unable  to  locate  the  factors  in  the 
universe  that  can  bring  about  more  perfect  harmony  and  co- 
operation between  the  different  parts  of  the  universe,  includ- 
ing God  and  men,  when  it  attributes  these  factors  to  caprice, 
chance,  or  to  something  else  that  is  unexplainable  and  irra- 
tional. Such  a  pluralism  as  Professor  Ward's,  (which  does  not 
so  largely  limit  the  knowledge  and  power  of  God,  as  that  of 
James)  assures  us  that  God  will  realize  His  own  ends  ultim- 
ately, whatever  we  do.  If  that  is  the  case,  it  may  be  asked, 
what  does  our  slight  freedom  amount  to,  anyway?  How  does 
such  a  view  afford  any  real  advantage  over  complete  determ- 
inism? To  the  extent  that  pluralistic  systems  recognize  the 
power,  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God  and  the  presence  of  uni- 
form principles  of  causation,  purpose,  and  harmony  in  the 
universe  they  approach  monism,  with  its  advantages  and  ob- 
jections. Whether  these  criticisms  outweigh  the  advantages 
in  pluralism  and  indeterminism  with  respect  to  this  problem, 
the  reader  can  decide  for  himself,  after  he  has  considered  the 
rival  position  represented  by  Royce,  16. 

VI — Royce's  Conception  of  Freedom  and  the  Absolute 

As  we  saw  in  the  preceding  chapter,  for  Royce  the  universe 
is  experienced  by  the  Absolute  Mind,  (1)  as  a  series  of  events 
that  follow  one  another  in  time  in  the  experiences  of  the  vari- 
ous finite  beings,  and  (2)  on  account  of  an  all  embracing  time 
span,  as  an  eternally  completed  and  absolutely  perfect  and 
harmonious  whole.  Each  finite  self — such  as  yours  or  mine — 


406  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

is  unique;  it  has  a  value  of  its  own  for  the  Absolute,  and  the 
perfection  of  the  whole  which  He  experiences  is  a  resultant  of 
the  contributions  furnished  by  each  such  self;  just  as  in  a 
musical  composition  the  harmony  of  the  whole  is  a  resultant 
of  the  various  separate  notes.  So  each  of  us  has  a  value  and 
a  purpose  that  is  peculiar,  and  gives  worth  to  our  individuality. 
God  eternally  wills  the  universe  as  a  whole;  He  therefore  wills 
each  of  us  as  an  essential  and  valuable  part  of  this  whole.  We 
therefore  in  our  separate  personalities  share  in  this  whole.  Our 
ethical  freedom  consists  in  consciously  identifying  ourselves 
with  this  whole,  that  is,  with  the  purposes  of  the  Absolute.  If 
we  refuse  so  to  identify  ourselves  with  God,  we  shall  do  no  harm 
to  Him,  or  His  universal  harmony ;  He  will  in  some  manner 
atone  for  our  evil  deeds  and  turn  them  into  good  from  the 
eternal  point  of  view;  in  fact,  in  a  sense  He  has  already  done 
so,  since  His  perception  and  valuation  of  the  world  order  is 
eternal.  For  us,  however,  and  other  human  beings  acting  and 
living  in  the  temporal  order,  our  evil  acts  of  disloyalty  bring 
suffering,  and  prevent  the  attainment  of  ethical  freedom.  Our 
true  nature  is  expressed  only  in  conformity  to  the  divine  will, 
which  is  our  will,  too,  since  we  are  parts  of  the  universal  pur- 
pose, but  if  in  our  ignorance  we  fail  to  perceive  that  only  in 
His  service  is  perfect  freedom  found,  we  do  not  gain  ethical 
freedom. 

The  emphasis  in  Royce's  account  is  on  ethical  freedom,  as 
an  ideal  to  be  realized  by  being  faithful  to  our  tasks,  by  being 
loyal  to  those  causes  to  which  we  are  peculiarly  fitted  to  be 
of  service,  and  by  so  coming  in  some  measure  to  appreciate, 
within  the  limits  of  our  finitude,  the  universal  harmony  to  which 
we  are  contributing.  Royce's  treatment  implies  that  we  are 
psychologically  free,  in  that  our  actions  are  determined  by  our 
own  mental  processes,  and  that  we  are  morally  responsible  for 
them.  Failure  to  recognize  where  duty  lies  and  the  path  to- 
ward ethical  freedom  is  due  to  lack  of  attention  to  the  duties 
and  opportunities  that  lie  immediately  before  us,  and  we  are 
morally  blamable  for  this  lack  of  attention,  17.  Royce's  thought 
here  is  quite  along  the  line  of  the  Christian  conception  that 
only  in  the  service  of  God  is  perfect  freedom  to  be  found,  and 
of  Tennyson's  "Our  wills  are  ours  to  make  them  Thine,"  18. 

To  be  sure,  Royce  says  that  only  in  the  eternal  mind  of  God 
is  this  ideal  of  the  unique  value  and  freedom  of  each  individual 
fully  realized.  For  us,  it  must  be  purely  an  ideal.  As  finite 


THE  AUTHOR'S  OPINIONS  40T 

individuals  in  time  our  selves  are  subject  to  external  conditions, 
— heredity,  physical  and  social  environment.  So,  in  time,  the 
finite  self  appears  as  "a  product,  a  result,  a  determined  crea- 
ture of  destiny,"  19.  Except  in  so  far  "as  your  life  becomes 
for  you  your  own  way  of  viewing  your  relation  to  the  whole, 
and  of  actively  expressing  our  own  ideal  regarding  this  rela- 
tion," your  life  is  derived  from  external  conditions.  But  this, 
"your  own  way  of  expressing  God's  will  is  not  derived.  It  is 
yourself.  And  it  is  yours  because  God  worketh  in  you,"  20. 
In  so  far  as  we  consciously  identify  ourselves  with  the  divine 
purpose,  we  are  free ;  otherwise  not. 

Royce  is  thus  a  determinist,  in  so  far  as  events  in  the  temp- 
oral order  are  concerned,  while  at  the  same  time  he  implies  that 
by  attention  to  the  calls  of  duty  and  loyalty  and  by  conscious- 
ness of  our  unique  worth  as  individuals  we  can  in  some  meas- 
ure rise  above  the  temporal  order  and  identify  ourselves  with 
the  eternal,  and  thus  become  conscious  of  our  freedom.  This 
is  not  gained,  however,  through  a  form  of  mysticism  implying 
detachment  or  retreat  from  social  relationships,  but  through 
active  service  and  devotion  to  the  tasks  in  life  which  we  are 
peculiarly  fitted  to  fill.  "The  unity  of  the  world  is  not  an 
ocean  in  which  we  are  lost,  but  a  life  which  is,  and  which  needs 
all  our  lives  in  one,"  21.  In  the  various  ethical  religions  of  the 
world,  certain  facts  are  portrayed,  "which  may  be  called  the 
creed  of  the  Absolute  Religion,"  and  which  Royce  gives  in 
italics  toward  the  close  of  his  Philosophy  of  Loyalty,  22 :  "First 
the  rational  unity  and  goodness  of  the  world — life;  next,  its 
true  but  invisible  nearness  to  us,  despite  our  ignorance;  fur- 
ther, its  fulness  of  meaning  despite  our  barrenness  of  present 
experience;  and  yet  more,  its  interest  in  our  personal  destiny 
as  moral  beings;  and  finally,  the  certainty  that,  through  our 
actual  human  loyalty,  we  come,  like  Moses,  face  to  face  with 
the  true  will  of  the  world,  as  a  man  speaks  to  his  friend,"  23. 

VII — The  Author's  Opinions 

There  are  several  propositions  which,  it  seems  to  the 
author,  a  theory  of  the  freedom  of  the  human  will  in  relation 
to  the  divine  will  should  recognize.  These  are:  (1)  Psycho- 
logical freedom  and  moral  responsibility  are  unquestionable 
facts  of  human  experience.  (2)  Ethical  freedom  is  a  work- 
able ideal,  which  men  can  in  large  measure  make  a  reality  by 


408  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

their  efforts.  (3)  Acceptance  of  such  a  God  as  is  affirmed  by 
modern  Christian  and  Jewish  thought,  whether  liberal  or  con- 
servative, implies  that  the  ethical  freedom  of  a  human  being 
is  gained  by  conscious  cooperation  with  the  will  of  God.  Only 
in  His  service  can  there  be  perfect  freedom.  (4)  It  is  an  out- 
standing fact  in  human  experience  that  the  will  of  no  human 
being  at  the  present  time  is  completely  consistent  and  coher- 
ent; even  men  with  the  strongest  characters  experience  at 
times  within  themselves  struggles  between  conflicting  impulses. 
(5)  The  wills  of  no  group  of  human  beings  are  completely 
in  accord,  whether  these  persons  constitute  a  family,  a  church, 
a  city,  or  a  nation.  The  social  will  of  any  group  is  subject  to 
struggles  between  conflicting  elements.  (6)  The  will  of  no 
group  of  human  beings  works  in  perfect  harmony  with  the 
wills  of  other  groups.  (7)  Ethical  freedom,  therefore,  whether 
of  any  individual  human-  being,  or  any  group  of  human  beings, 
has  not  yet  been  completely  realized.  At  the  same  time,  the 
history  of  moral  and  social  evolution,  as  well  as  the  study  of 
individual  and  social  psychology,  make  it  evident  that  increas- 
ing coherence  and  unity  of  purpose  are  being  effected  both  in 
the  wills  of  individuals  and  in  those  of  groups  of  mankind,  24. 

As  has  been  indicated  in  previous  chapters,  the  telelogical 
and  other  evidence  seems  to  the  author  to  suggest,  not  a  com- 
pletely purposive  universe,  but  one  in  which  there  is  an  Increas- 
ing amount  of  purposiveness  in  the  order  of  nature  and  evolu- 
tion. This  appears  to  indicate  the  presence  of  a  Purposer, 
(i.  e.,  God)  immeasurably  greater  than  ourselves,  but  still  fin- 
ite, who  is  gradually  overcoming  limitations  and  achieving 
ends.  In  the  evolution  of  the  earth,  the  divinely  directed  tele- 
ological  process  has  resulted  in  the  appearance  of  men,  ration- 
al beings  who  consciously  form  purposes  of  their  own  and 
succeed  in  some  measure  in  carrying  them  out.  Men,  being 
consciously  teleological,  may  in  this  respect  be  said  to  be  incar- 
nations of  God,  to  be  formed  in  the  image  of  God ;  this  enables 
them  to  cooperate  consciously  in  His  purposes.  As  Royce 
suggests,  this  cooperation  is  effected  by  men  being  loyal  to 
the  ideals  that  they  are  able  to  form — ideals  that  of  course 
must  be  social. 

The  will  of  the  human  being  is  subject  to  what  has  been 
called  teleological  determinism — i.  e.,  while  it  is  the  outcome 
of  heredity  and  physical  and  social  environment,  it  also  forms 
and  achieves  ends  through  the  employment  cf  memory,  imag- 


THE  AUTHOR'S  OPINIONS  409 

ination,  and  reasoning,  so  that  its  determination  is  quite  differ- 
ent^ffbm  the  mechanical  determination  of  material  objects. 

The  purposes  and  will  of  no  human  being  are  wholly  con- 
sistent with  one  another,  nor  with  those  of  other  human  beings. 
That  is  another  way  of  saying  that  ethical  freedom  is  an  ideal 
which  has  not  yet  been  perfectly  attained,  either  by  individuals 
or  by  the  social  order.  But  every  individual  man  gains  increas- 
ing ethical  freedom  to  the  extent  that  his  purposes  become 
united  into  a  consistent  plan  of  life ;  and  social  groups  are 
gradually  learning  through  better  forms  of  association — in 
families,  churches  and  synagogues,  cities,  nations,  international 
agreements,  etc. — to  bring  their  purposes  together  into  a  more 
nearly  unified  whole.  The  teleological  evidence,  when  balanced 
with  that  for  dysteleology,  suggests  that  the  situation  of  God 
is  similar,  though  of  course,  on  an  immeasurably  more  exalted 
plane.  We  can  hardly  suppose  that  the  purposes  of  God  are 
fully  worked  out  in  His  own  mind;  doubtless  they  are  grad- 
ually becoming  better  organized  and  perfected.  Nor  has  He 
yet  succeeded  in  gaining  the  complete  cooperation  and  undivid- 
ed loyalty  of  the  other  conscious  beings  in  the  universe.  As 
men  grow  in  moral  and  religious  insight,  their  wills  are  becom- 
ing better  harmonized  with  God's  will.  We,  as  conscious  ra- 
tional beings,  are  a  partial  expression  of  the  purposing  efforts 
of  God.  Through  our  cooperation  He  hopes  to  achieve  great 
ends.  To  some  extent  He  doubtless  can  use  us  against  our 
consent,  and  in  some  ways  He  can  atone  for  our  misdeeds,  as 
Royce  suggests.  But  He  can  use  us  to  much  better  advantage 
for  our  ultimate  good  which  is  one  with  His  own,  if  we  commit 
our  ways  to  Him  in  complete  loyalty  to  the  ideals  that  we  have 
thus  far  learned  to  know.  We  already  enjoy  psychological 
freedom  and  moral  responsibility.  Through  identification  of 
our  wills  with  His  will,  i.  e.,  through  loyalty  to  our  tasks  and 
opportunities — we  can  gain  ethical  freedom. 

Whether  the  author's  view  should  be  classified  as  a  form  of 
determinism  or  of  indeterminism,  let  others  decide.     The  author  7 
merely  insists  that  it  is  not  indeterminism  in  so  far  as  the  latter 
recognizes  chance  or  contingency  in  either  the  human  will,  the   S 
divine  will,  or  physical  nature ;  and  that  it  is  not  mechanical 
determination  or  predestination,  or  fatalism  of  any  sort.     The   " 
author  maintains  that  growth  is  made  possible  by  the  teleolog- 
ical determination  which  he  believes  to  be  characteristic  both 
of  the  human  will  and  of  the  divine  will.     The  future  is  an  en- 


410  GOD  AND  FREEDOM 

largement  of  the  past,  both  for  us  and  for  God.  This  is  a 
"melioristic  universe"  to  use  James'  phrase,  for  all  the  ration- 
ally conscious  beings  in  it.  Our  wills  are  not  at  present  com- 
pletely determined  by  the  will  of  God.  Our  wills  are  too  often 
painfully  at  variance  both  with  our  selves,  and  those  of  other 
men,  to  be  completely  determined  by  a  Universal  Will.  Per- 
haps God  voluntarily  limited  Himself  in  the  evolution  of  men 
with  wills  partially  independent  of  His  will,  because  He  fore- 
saw that  He  could  accomplish  more  through  cooperation  of 
such  beings.  Possibly  there  was  no  other  way  in  which  He 
could  bring  men  into  existence  in  a  universe  that  is  only  par- 
tially under  His  control. 

The  author  supposes  that  his  view  should  be  classified  as 
pluralistic  rather  than  monistic.  He  is  not  ready  to  affirm, 
however,  that  a  pluralistic  universe  is  ideally  better  than  a 
monistic  one;  possibly  so,  possibly  not.  Perhaps,  as  James  at 
times  seems  to  have  thought,  the  universe  is  gradually  evolv- 
ing into  a  teleological  unity.  Perhaps  it  will  ultimately  be- 
come what  Royce  believed  it  to  be  now.  But  there  is 
too  much  evil  in  our  human  experience — both  physical  and 
moral — and  the  wills  that  we  know  clash  altogether  too  often 
and  too  fiercely,  to  give  us  hope  that  the  Roycean  conception 
will  become  reality  for  countless  aeons  to  come.  And  it  is  by 
no  means  certain  that  we  ought  to  desire  that  Royce's  Abso- 
lute should  ever  become  a  reality.  Perhaps  it  will  be  better 
that,  throughout  all  the  aeons  of  aeons,  there  should  be  an 
increasing  growth  of  purposes,  and  such  development  may  for- 
ever (as  now)  involve  conflicts  between  clashing  wills.  A  uni- 
verse of  static  perfection  might  grow  stale  for  God  and  men 
alike.  Struggles  terminating  in  the  attainment  of  ever  higher 
planes  of  cooperation,  justice,  love,  and  beauty,  may  forever 
take  place  in  a  universe  destined  never  wholly  to  become,  but 
eternally  to  progress  toward,  absolute  perfection. 

VIII — Conclusion 

It  will  be  well  to  summarize  briefly  the  outcome  of  this  and 
the  preceding  chapter.  Part  II  has  already  shown  us  that 
prayer  and  the  other  religious  experiences  are  efficacious  (with- 
in the  limits  there  indicated).  The  net  result  of  the  evidence 
in  Chapter  XIX  is  favorable  to  the  belief  that  in  some  sense 
there  actually  is  a  God  operative  in  these  experiences.  The 
existence  of  evil  raises  no  insuperable  difficulty  to  belief  in  God ; 


CONCLUSION  411 

it  can  be  explained  in  different  ways,  according  to  which  con- 
ception of  the  nature  of  God  is  accepted.  The  same  is  true 
of  the  freedom  of  the  human  will.  Entirely  apart  from  ques- 
tions about  God,  the  ethical  experience  of  everyday  life  obliges 
us  to  conclude  that  psychological  freedom  and  moral  respon- 
sibility are  facts,  and  that  ethical  freedom  is  a  workable  and 
partially  attainable  ideal.  These  conclusions  can  be  inter- 
preted fairly  successfully,  alike  by  theories  of  determinism 
and  indeterminism,  monism  and  pluralism.  None  of  these  the- 
ories, to  be  sure,  explain  all  the  difficulties  completely.  But 
all  explain  them  sufficiently,  so  that  one  can  conclude  that, 
whichever  of  them  is  nearest  to  truth,  there  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  our  personal  freedom  and  responsibility.  Nor  is  there 
reason  to  doubt  our  power  to  receive  aid  from  God  in  prayer 
and  other  religious  experiences  in  the  endeavor  to  live  loyally 
for  Him,  to  be  of  service  to  others,  and  to  realize  our  own 
capacities. 

REFERENCES 

*W.  G.  EVERETT,  Moral  Values,  Chapter  XII. 

*FR.  PAULSEN,  System  of  Ethics,  Book  II,  Chap.  IX. 

*WILLLYM  JAMES,   Psychology,  briefer  course,  "The  Dilemma  of  Deter- 
minism" in  The  Will  to  Believe. 

*WILLIAM  McDouoALL,  Social  Psychology,  Chapter  IX. 

"MosiAii     ROYCE,     Spirit     of     Modern     Philosophy,     Lectures     X-XIII. 
Philosophy  of  Loyalty. 

*F.  C.  S.  SCHILLER,  Studies  in  Humanism,  Chapter  XVIII.     Riddles  of 
the  Sphinx,  revised  edition,  Appendix. 

Other  elementary  and  advanced  references  will  be  found  in  the  NOTES 
to  this  Chapter, 


IMMORTALITY 

THERE  are  certain  respects  in  which  the  continued  existence 
of  human  personalities  is  a  well  known  fact,  and  a  fact  of  the 
greatest  importance.  Discussion  of  the  problem  of  immortal- 
ity in  these  respects  in  which  its  existence  is  not  certainly 
known,  and  at  most  must  be  a  postulate,  has  unduly  drawn 
attention  away  from  the  forms  of  immortality  of  which  we 
have  absolute  knowledge,  and  which  ought  to  afford  us  great 
comfort  and  inspiration.  Before  entering  into  consideration 
of  the  speculative  forms  of  immortality  let  us  first  take  notice 
of  those  regarding  which  there  can  be  no  doubt  whatever. 

I — Immortality  as  a  Known  Fact 

First,  let  us  note  Biological  Immortality.  Numerous  as  are 
the  biological  theories  of  the  nature  and  laws  of  heredity,  one 
does  not  need  to  be  a  biologist  to  know  that  children  inherit 
the  physical  and  mental  traits  of  their  parents  and  other  ances- 
tors. Whoever  leaves  physical  descendants  is  assured  that 
many  of  his  own  characteristics  and  those  of  his  family  stock 
will  be  preserved.  It  is  comforting  to  see  reappear  many  of 
the  physical  features  of  one's  dead  parents, — the  eyes,  it  may 
be  of  one's  beloved  mother,  the  characteristic  smile  of  one's 
revered  father,  and  along  with  them,  perhaps,  to  recognize  one's 
own  stubbornness  and  sense  of  humor,  and  to  know  that  in  one's 
children  will  be  continued  the  traits  of  the  family  which  one 
loves,  and  of  which  one  is  proud  to  be  a  member.  In  one's 
children,  too,  are  liable  to  recur  the  family  defects  and  weak- 
nesses, physical  and  mental.  While  this  may  in  some  cases 
be  a  ground  for  anxiety,  there  is  always  the  comforting  thought 
that  the  availability  of  better  scientific  modes  of  treatment 
makes  the  inheritance  of  physical  defects  less  menacing  than 
in  the  past,  while  one's  own  experience  will  aid  in  deciding  how 
to  deal  with  them,  as  well  as  with  dangerous  mental  and  moral 
weaknesses.  The  experience  of  the  parent,  too,  is  of  value  in 
assisting  the  child  to  make  the  most  of  the  good  qualities 
that  he  has  inherited.  So,  taken  altogether,  the  hope  of  an 

412 


SPIRITUAL  IMMORTALITY 

immortality  in  one's  offspring  furnishes  one  of  the  finest  as 
well  as  most  powerful  incentives  to  marriage.  This  prospect, 
too,  induces  thoughtfulness  on  the  part  of  young  men  and 
women,  who  realize  the  privilege  and  responsibility  of  this  sort 
of  immortality,  and  determines  them  so  to  order  their  own  lives 
to  ensure  the  inheritance  of  clean,  vigorous  minds  and  bodies 
by  their  descendants.  Biological  immortality,  as  thus  far  de- 
scribed, is  an  unquestionable  fact,  whatever  may  be  the  truth 
of  the  various  biological  theories  of  heredity  in  detail.  Among 
the  latter,  that  of  Weismann,  maintaining  the  continuity  of  the 
germ  plasm,  which  is  transmitted  from  one  generation  to  an- 
other, has  led  to  philosophical  speculations.  The  most  daring 
of  these  is  that  of  Bergson,  who  thinks  of  life  as  "like  a  cur- 
rent passing  from  germ  to  germ  through  the  medium  of  a 
developed  organism,"  so  that  there  is  a  continuous  progress 
of  immortal  life  in  the  germs,  "an  invisible  progress,  on  which 
each  visible  organism  rides  during  the  short  interval  of  time 
given  it  to  live,"  1. 

Another  known  fact  may  be  named  Spiritual,  or  Social  Im- 
mortality. In  this  sense,  great  men  never  die.  Class  rooms  in 
courses  in  Greek  philosophy  are  not  liable,  at  least  in  this 
country,  to  be  overcrowded.  Yet  it  can  be  said  that  the 
thoughts  and  personality  of  Plato  through  his  writings  are  to- 
day being  studied  by  more  young  men  in  the  world  every  year 
than  ever  assembled  during  his  lifetime  to  hear  him  lecture  in 
the  Academy  at  Athens.  More  people  today  witness  the  plays 
of  Shakespeare  in  the  theatre,  and  study  the  thoughts  of  this 
myriad  minded  poet  in  classes  and  in  private  reading,  than  ever 
came  in  any  way  into  contact  with  his  personality  during  his 
lifetime.  Nor  do  thinkers  like  these  merely  influence  those  who 
consciously  come  into  contact  with  their  writings.  It  would  be 
impossible  to  calculate  their  influence  upon  countless  human 
beings  who  have  never  even  heard  their  names.  It  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  such  men  are  more  alive  today,  in  the  influence 
that  their  personalities  are  exerting  in  the  world,  than  when 
they  lived  in  the  flesh.  Still  more  is  this  true  of  the  great 
founders  of  the  world's  religions.  Think  of  the  lives  consecrated 
every  year  to  walk  in  the  eight  fold  path  of  the  Buddha,  and  of 
the  souls  who  every  day  devoutly  engage  in  prayer  when  they 
hear  the  summons  from  the  mosques  of  Mohammed !  And  what 
is  recorded  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  and  the  books  that  follow 
it  in  our  Bibles,  and  in  the  witness  of  Christ  borne  by  all  the 


IMMORTALITY 

saints,  apostles,  prophets  and  martyrs  of  succeeding  centuries 
but  what  Jesus  has  continued  both  to  do  and  to  teach  in  the 
world  since  the  end  of  his  brief  life  in  the  flesh? 

This  principle  holds  true,  not  only  of  the  great  ones  in  his- 
tory, whose  names  are  remembered,  but  of  humbler  folk  as 
well.  The  village  Hampdens  who  withstood  the  local  tyrants, 
the  Cromwells  who  did  not  shed  their  country's  blood,  and  the 
mute  inglorious  Miltons,  too,  are  immortal.  Though  their 
bodies  rest  in  the  country  churchyard,  and  their  names  may 
no  more  be  deciphered  on  the  tombstones,  the  principles  and 
values  for  which  they  stood  continue  to  live  and  exercise  an 
influence  in  the  community.  Colleges  and  universities  revere 
the  memories  of  their  founders  and  presidents,  but  no  freshman 
or  laboratory  assistant  or  janitor  who  did  his  part  faithfully 
while  he  was  connected  with  such  an  institution  and  so  exerted 
a  modest  influence  upon  the  men  about  him,  but  has  helped  to 
keep  pure  the  traditions  of  loyalty  and  service,  which  are  after 
all  the  main  things  in  education.  Such  men,  too,  survive  in  the 
undying  life  of  alma  mater.  Not  only  does  Washington  live 
in  America  and  Garibaldi  in  Italy,  but  every  humble  private 
soldier  who  shared  in  their  heroic  efforts  for  national  independ- 
ence. 

One  comforting  thought  about  this  kind  of  immortality  is, 
that  it  is  principally  the  good  in  men  that  survives.  Funeral 
sermons  are  rightly  eulogies;  what  will  be  remembered,  what 
are  still  living  and  bound  to  exert  an  influence  are  the  good, 
kind  deeds  of  a  man  who  has  died.  Even  before  the  earth 
receives  his  body,  a  man's  meannesses  and  littlenesses  are  vir- 
tually forgotten  by  those  who  love  him.  This  principle  holds 
true  of  the  great,  as  well.  What  if  some  investigator  digs  up 
some  facts  in  the  private  life  of  a  Franklin,  and  even  of  a 
Washington,  that  are  discreditable?  These  are  not  the  im- 
mortal elements  in  these  men's  lives ;  far  less  worthy  men  were 
freer  from  such  faults.  What  the  world  has  come  to  revere 
in  these  men,  and  to  cherish,  is  all  of  them  that  counts  today 
as  a  living  force  in  human  events ;  anything  else  about  them 
may  well  be  allowed  to  perish  utterly  from  human  memory  and 
thought.  Even  the  monsters  in  human  history — the  Neroes  and 
Domitians  and  Borgias — are  doing  good,  not  evil,  in  the  world 
today.  No  one  is  tempted  to  emulate  their  vices.  They  are 
doing  a  good  work  in  serving  as  awful  examples  to  be  avoided. 
Many  a  young  prince  in  European  royal  families  has  probably 


SPIRITUAL  IMMORTALITY  415 

been  more  carefully  reared,  and  has  consequently  developed  in- 
to a  better  man  because  of  them.  So  the  Mark  Antony  of 
Shakespeare's  Julius  Caesar  is  entirely  wrong;  it  is  the  good 
that  men  do  which  lives  after  them,  while  the  evil  is  interred 
with  their  bones. 

The  thought  of  social  immortality  should  be  a  great  com- 
fort and  an  inspiration.  Those  in  bereavement  should  consider 
that  their  lost  ones  are  continuing  to  live  in  them,  in  their  con- 
scious memories,  in  their  ideals,  and  in  their  actions.  Would 
you  keep  alive  the  friend  whom  you  have  lost?  Think  of  him 
often ;  be  as  he  would  have  you  be ;  carry  out  his  plans ;  be 
true  to  his  principles.  Realize  that,  so  far  as  this  world  and 
its  human  associations  are  concerned,  our  lost  ones  can  only 
continue  to  live  in  us.  This  is  saddening,  yes ;  but  it  is  a  com- 
fort to  know  that  they  do  live  in  us,  if  we  will  let  them ;  and 
it  is  an  inspiration  to  keep  them  living  forces  in  the  world. 
It  is  surely  a  more  faithful  service  to  them  to  keep  them  alive 
in  this  way  than  to  abandon  oneself  to  futile  and  corroding 
grief. 

A  similar  comfort  and  inspiration  is  open  to  men  associated 
in  groups,  such  as  families,  churches,  nations.  The  writer  of 
the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  expresses  this  thought.  After 
recounting  in  his  remarkable  eleventh  chapter  the  heroic  deeds 
that  the  ancestral  heroes  of  his  people  had  done  in  faith,  he 
concludes:  "And  these  all,  having  had  witness  borne  to  them 
through  their  faith,  received  not  the  promise  God  having  pro- 
vided some  better  thing  concerning  us,  that  apart  from  us  they 
should  not  be  made  perfect"  In  other  words,  only  as  the  pres- 
ent generation  achieves  the  ideal  of  faith,  can  the  hopes  and 
aspirations  of  the  former  generations  be  realized,  and  they  "be 
made  perfect."  No  finer  appeal  to  loyalty  can  be  made ;  only 
through  our  fidelity  to  our  duties,  can  our  parents,  the  fathers 
of  our  country,  and  the  witnesses  of  our  religion  in  times  past, 
continue  to  live,  and  to  achieve  the  high  purposes  to  which 
they  were  devoted.  Only  through  us  can  they  be  made  perfect. 
Ours,  then  is  a  sacred  duty  and  a  high  privilege. 

Do  you  desire  immortality  for  yourself?  Remember  this: 
Every  person  acquires  just  as  much  spiritual  immortality  as 
he  deserves;  spiritual  immortality  is  something  automatically 
assured  to  one.  Make  friends ;  be  true  to  them.  Stand  for 
high  ideals.  Be  constructive  in  your  life.  Plan  to  marry,  if 
it  is  practicable.  A  parent  has  unusual  opportunities,  spirit- 


IMMORTALITY 

ually  as  well  as  biologically,  to  transmit  what  is  good  in  him. 
But  if  this  is  impracticable,  remember  that  the  teacher,  too, 
has  great  opportunities ;  in  fact,  in  every  walk  in  life — the 
lawyer,  the  physician,  the  business  man,  the  mechanic,  the  un- 
skilled laborer — everyone  can  make  his  life  a  constructive  in- 
fluence that  will  continue  long  after  his  body  has  rotted  away 
in  the  grave. 

II — Conditions  of  Immortality  as  a  Postulate 

The  reader  by  this  time  is  probably  asking,  "Is  what  you 
have  called  'immortality  as  a  fact,'  and  classified  as  'biolog- 
ical5 and  'spiritual'  immortality  all  that  is  open  to  man?  Have 
we  no  ground  to  believe  in  personal  immortality,  i.  e.,  that  our 
friends  and  we  shall  persist  beyond  the  grave,  not  merely  in 
the  minds  and  memories  of  others,  but  that  our  personal  exist- 
ence will  in  some  sense  continue,  as  it  were,  in  our  own  right?" 
Yes,  we  have  ground  to  believe  in,  and  to  hope  for  personal 
immortality,  although  the  grounds  only  furnish  probability, 
and  not  absolute  proof. 

Before  proceeding  further,  it  is  necessary  to  caution  the 
reader  that  the  expression  "personal  immortality"  is  used  by 
various  writers  in  different  senses.  As  employed  in  this  chapter 
it  will  include,  as  will  become  clear  in  the  course  of  the  expo- 
sition:— (1)  immortality  as  a  separate  individual;  (2)  immor- 
tality merged  in  God  (or  the  Absolute)  as  the  supreme  Person 
or  Individual ;  (3)  an  attempted  combination  of  the  two.  This 
usage  is  wholly  arbitrary  on  the  part  of  the  writer.  He  needs 
some  term  to  designate  all  the  three  types  of  immortality  which 
require  consideration  at  this  point,  and  this  term  will  answer 
as  well  as  any. 

The  arguments  for  personal  immortality,  thus  understood, 
are  chiefly  moral  arguments.  In  a  moral  universe,  such  im- 
mortality seems  logically  to  be  implied.  But  arguments  on 
this  line  must  necessarily  rest  upon  two  assumptions,  which 
must  be  examined.  First,  it  must  be  evident  that  continued 
existence  after  death  is  a  scientific,  (that  is,  chiefly  a  psycho- 
logical) possibility.  If  it  were  simply  inconceivable  and  im- 
possible, in  view  of  our  scientific  knowledge,  there  would  be  no 
room  to  postulate  it  on  moral  grounds.  It  is  not  necessary 
that  we  have  positive  scientific  evidence  in  favor  of  such  im- 
mortality ;  but  the  weight  of  scientific  evidence  must  not  at  any 
rate  be  against  it.  Secondly,  the  continued  existence  of  the 


SCIENTIFICALLY  POSSIBLE  417 

individual  after  death  must  be  morally  desirable.  No  form  of 
immortality  that  would  be  morally  undesirable,  that  would,  if 
it  were  assumed  to  exist,  render  God  and  the  universe  less 
moral  and  less  good  than  they  would  be  without  it  can  be  as- 
sumed on  moral  grounds.  We  can  only  recognize  moral  argu- 
ments for  a  morally  desirable  kind  of  immortality.  Before  we 
shall  be  ready  either  to  review  arguments  for  personal  immor- 
tality as  a  postulate,  or  to  speculate  upon  the  character  of 
such  a  state  of  existence,  we  must  accordingly  consider  the 
two  preliminary  questions: — Is  personal  immortality  scienti- 
fically possible?  and  Is  personal  immortality  morally  desirable? 

Ill — Is  Continued  Existence  After  Death  Scientifically  Possible? 

On  first  thought,  the  scientific  reader,  especially  if  his  spec- 
ialty is  either  biology  or  psychology,  may  possibly  feel  im- 
pelled to  answer  this  question  with  a  decided  negative.  Con- 
sciousness, everywhere  that  we  find  evidence  of  its  existence, 
at  least  in  a  developed  form,  seems  absolutely  dependent  upon 
a  brain  and  nervous  system.  In  the  case  of  man,  consciousness 
only  appears  after  birth,  and  only  develops  as  coordinations 
are  formed  in  the  cells  of  the  brain.  A  slight  cortical  injury 
may  render  a  person  totally  blind,  or  deaf,  or  unable  to  recall 
the  meaning  of  printed  or  spoken  words,  depending  upon 
what  specific  area  is  damaged.  More  general  injuries  to  the 
brain  may  deprive  a  person  of  his  sanity,  or  of  his  bodily  life 
altogether.  Is  it  reasonable  to  suppose  that  his  consciousness, 
which  only  appears  when  his  brain  has  reached  a  certain  de- 
velopment, and  continues  to  be  dependent  upon  the  normal 
functioning  of  brain  cells,  can  survive  the  destruction  of  the 
brain  at  death? 

Well,  as  William  James  has  pointed  out,  there  are  different 
senses  in  which  consciousness  may  be  conceived  to  be  a  function 
of  the  brain.  The  conclusion  that  consciousness  cannot  sur- 
vive the  destruction  of  the  brain  assumes  that  the  function  is 
productive,  in  the  sense  in  which  we  say  that  steam  is  a  func- 
tion of  the  tea-kettle,  light  of  the  electric  circuit,  and  power 
of  the  moving  waterfall. 

But  in  the  world  of  physical  nature  there  are  other  kinds 
of  functions  besides  productive  functions.  For  instance,  there 
are  transmissive  functions,  as  in  the  case  of  a  colored  glass, 
a  prism,  or  a  refracting  lens,  which  do  not  produce  the  light, 
but  transmit  its  rays  in  modified  forms.  Similarly  the  keys 


418  IMMORTALITY 

of  an  organ  have  only  a  transmissive  function;  they  open  the 
various  pipes  successively,  and  let  the  wind  in  the  air-chest 
escape  in  various  ways.  But  the  air  is  not  engendered  in  the 
organ. 

James  points  out  that  it  is  quite  conceivable  that  the  rela- 
tion of  the  mind  to  the  brain  might  be  either  one  of  these  kinds 
of  functions.  All  that  the  scientific  facts  show  is  bare  con- 
comitant variation,  i.  e.,  that  when  the  brain  activities  change 
in  one  way,  consciousness  changes  in  another.  To  say  that  the 
-function  is  productive  is  to  engage  in  metaphysical  specula- 
tion just  as  much  as  to  say  that  it  is  transmissive.  There  are 
no  facts  known  to  psychology  or  physiology  that  are  not  com- 
patible with  the  transmission  theory,  while  a  number  of  psycho- 
logical conceptions  fit  into  this  theory  particularly  well.  Among 
the  latter  is  that  of  the  "threshold,"  which  can  be  conceived  as 
rising  and  falling  as  the  physical  obstructions  in  the  brain  to 
the  transmission  of  consciousness  grow  greater  or  less.  The 
transmission  theory  better  explains  the  forms  of  religious  ex- 
perience, such  as  conversion  and  prayer,  in  which  it  seems  "as 
if  a  power  without,  quite  different  from  the  ordinary  action 
of  the  senses,  or  of  the  sense-led  mind,  came  into  their  life,  as 
if  the  latter  suddenly  opened  into  that  greater  life  in  which 
it  has  its  source.  .  .  All  such  experiences,  quite  paradoxi- 
cal and  meaningless  on  the  production  theory,  fall  very  natur- 
ally into  place  (on  the  transmission  theory).  We  need  only 
suppose  the  continuity  of  our  consciousness  with  a  mother  sea 
to  allow  for  exceptional  waves  occasionally  pouring  over  the 
dam,"  2.  James  did  not  intend  to  imply  that  personal  identity 
disappears  with  death,  and  that  the  individual  is  merged  into 
a  "mother  sea"  that  includes  others  indistinguishably ;  on  the 
contrary,  he  says  that  "the  mental  world  behind  the  veil"  may 
be  conceived  "in  as  individualistic  a  form  as  one  pleases,"  so 
that  one  "shall  never  in  saecula  saeculorum  cease  to  be  able  to 
say  to  himself,  'I  am  the  same  personal  being  who  in  old  times 
upon  the  earth  had  those  experiences,'  "  3. 

Dr.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller  has  pointed  out  other  facts  that  fit 
better  into  the  transmissive  than  the  productive  theory.  The 
loss  or  impairment  of  consciousness  that  follows  brain  injuries 
is  often  after  an  interval  followed  by  a  restoration  of  the  lost 
functions  which  are  now  performed  by  other  areas  in  the  cor- 
tex. Such  facts  best  accord  with  the  transmission  theory,  which 
can  say  that  v.'hat  was  injured  was  the  machinery  by  which  the 


SCIENTIFICALLY  POSSIBLE  419 

manifestation  of  consciousness  was  rendered  possible,  and  that, 
later  on,  consciousness  became  able  from  the  uninjured  parts 
to  make  a  mechanism  capable  of  acting  as  a  substitute  for  the 
lost  parts,  4s. 

Somewhat  similar  in  many  respects  to  the  transmission  the- 
ory of  James  and  Dr.  Schiller,  is  the  doctrine  of  Professor 
Bergsori,  as  given  in  his  Matter  and  Memory  and  Creative 
Evolution.  He  regards  the  brain  as  the  instrument  of  action 
by  which  the  mind  carries  out  its  purposes.  He  reviews  the 
literature  of  aphasia  and  reasons  that  the  facts  accord  better 
with  his  doctrine.  He  claims  that  apparent  breaks  in  memory 
can  also  best  be  explained  on  the  assumption  that  simply  the 
brain  mechanism  for  making  use  of  these  memories  has  broken 
down,  5. 

Critical  readers  may  remark  that  although  James,  Schiller, 
and  Bergson,  must  be  credited  with  careful  study  of  the  scien- 
tific evidence  they  are  after  all  primarily  philosophical  theor- 
ists. To  such  the  corroborative  testimony  of  Dr.  J.  A.  Had- 
field,  a  practising  surgeon  in  the  British  Navy,  may  be  wel- 
come. His  own  observation  and  experience,  both  with  cases 
from  ordinary  civilian  life  and  those  of  shell  shock  and  other 
disorders  suffered  by  soldiers,  convince  him  that  the  mind,  both 
normally  and  still  more  under  hypnotic  conditions,  exercises 
so  much  control  over  neural  and  other  bodily  processes  as  to 
indicate  that  it  is  no  mere  product  of  the  brain.  Indeed,  the 
facts  indicate  an  increasing  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  mind 
to  assert  its  control  and  independence,  and  at  least  suggest 
"the  possibility  of  its  becoming  entirely  liberated  from  the 
body,  and  continuing  to  live  disembodied  and  free"  after 
death,  6. 

Professor  William  McDougall,  the  physiological  and  social 
psychologist,  maintains  that  there  are  many  psychological 
facts  that  cannot  be  explained  by  what  we,  following  James, 
have  called  the  production  theory,  nor  even  by  the  transmis- 
sion theory.  These  facts  include  such  concrete  but  technical 
experimental  investigations  as  his  own  work  in  the  coordina- 
tion of  the  eyes  in  binocular  vision,  and  more  general  consid- 
erations such  as  the  impossibility  of  neural  correlates  for  mean- 
ings and  values,  the  unity  of  consciousness  and  personality, 
the  unique  qualities  of  sensations,  the  sequence  of  sensation 
by  feelings  and  emotions,  conation  and  effort,  memory  and 
reasoning,  —  all  processes  alien  in  quality  and  behavior  to 


420  IMMORTALITY 

bodily  processes.  The  cause  of  such  phenomena,  Professor 
McDougall  maintains,  must  be  the  soul — not  conceived  in  the 
old-fashioned  manner  as  a  simple  substance,  but — a  being  that 
possesses  or  is,  the  sum  of  definite  capacities  to  produce  sen- 
sations, feelings,  meanings,  memories,  conations,  and  judg- 
ments, in  interaction  with  the  body.  Such  a  soul  conceivably 
might  survive  the  body  at  death,  7. 

Such  conceptions  as  those  of  James,  Dr.  Schiller,  Professor 
Bergson,  Dr.  Hadfield,  and  Professor  McDougall  concerning 
the  relation  between  the  mind  and  the  body  make  it  possible 
that  the  minds  or  souls  of  men  persist  after  death  as  distinct 
individual  beings.  If  experimental  evidence  could1  be  found, 
their  existence  might  be  scientifically  established.  The  British 
and  American  Societies  of  Psychical  Research — organizations 
including  in  their  active  membership  persons  of  the  highest 
standing,  as  scientists,  scholars,  and  statesmen — have  been  en- 
deavoring for  some  years  to  find  out  whether  such  evidence 
exists.  They  have  carefully  investigated  the  claims  of  clair- 
voyants, spiritualistic  mediums  and  like  folk,  who  allege  that 
they  are  able  to  communicate  with  the  dead.  While  the  vast 
majority  of  these  persons  have  been  found  to  be  frauds,  there 
are  a  few  who  are  undoubtedly  entirely  honest,  at  any  rate  in 
their  normal  waking  states,  whatever  may  be  true  of  them 
under  trance  conditions.  The  evidence  that  has  been  accu- 
mulated has  proved  on  the  whole  convincing  to  so  eminent  a 
scientist  as  Sir  Oliver  Lodge,  8. 

Those  interested  should  read  some  of  this  material,  as  pub- 
lished in  the  Proceedings  of  the  Society  of  Psychical  Research. 
Most  confidence  is  usually  placed,  by  those  who  believe  that  the 
existence  of  spirits  has  been  established,  in  the  reports  of  cor- 
respondence purporting  to  be  from  the  same  spirit,  but  trans- 
mitted by  different  mediums.  If  this  material  does  not  estab- 
lish the  existence  of  spirits,  but  does  establish  telepathy,  i.  <?., 
"the  communication  of  mind  with  mind  by  means  other  than 
the  recognized  channels  of  sense,"  as  a  number  of  eminent 
authorities  including  Professor  McDougall  (9)  have  con- 
cluded, it  is  damaging  to  the  production  theory,  since  the  hypo- 
thesis of  telepathy  implies  that  the  mind  has  powers  that  can- 
not readily  be  regarded  as  the  product  of  physical  forces. 
Acceptance  of  telepathy,  therefore,  is  favorable  to  belief  in 
the  existence  of  the  mind  in  independence  of  the  body. 

The  vast  majority  of  scientific  psychologists,  however,  have 


SCIENTIFICALLY  POSSIBLE  4rU 

been  unable  to  find  anything  in  this  material  that  cannot  be 
attributed  to  fraud,  to  mere  coincidence,  or  to  sub-conscious 
processes,  and  accordingly  believe  in  neither  spiritism  nor  tele- 
pathy, regarding  the  evidence  for  either  of  them  as  of  little 
weight.  The  reader  should  be  warned  that  those  psychical 
researchers  who  do  accept  spiritism  and  telepathy  admit  that 
the  great  majority  of  professional  mediums,  clairvoyants  and 
fortune  tellers  are  rascals.  It  is  agreed  by  all  responsible 
authorities  on  the  subject  that  for  the  present,  investigation 
should  be  confined  to  competent  specialists.  The  ordinary  lay- 
man ought  to  keep  away  from  seances  of  all  sorts,  if  he  wishes 
to  save  his  money  and  to  preserve  a  sane  attitude  toward  life,  10. 

Perhaps  the  reader  has  found  the  evidence  thus  far  con- 
sidered, sufficient  to  indicate  that  it  is  quite  possible  so  far  as 
present  scientific  knowledge  goes,  that  the  individual's  mind 
may  persist  in  independence  of  his  body.  Immortality  in  other 
words,  may  appear  to  be  scientifically  possible.  Thus  far  in 
this  section  the  type  of  immortality  which  we  have  been  con- 
templating is  that  of  separate  individual  minds,  persisting  in 
independence  of  one  another,  as  is  the  case  in  our  present  life. 
To  be  sure,  the  transmission  theory  need  not  be  interpreted 
so  as  to  imply  this.  It  may  be  taken  to  signify  that  individ- 
uals do  not  persist  as  such  but  lose  their  separate  character 
and  become  parts  of  a  universal  Mind  or  Will — which  may, 
if  we  wish,  be  thought  of  as  God. 

This  latter  supposition  is  compatible  with  the  doctrine  held 
by  many  psychologists,  that  consciousness  is  not  a  separate 
something  that  is  in  interaction  with  the  body,  but  that  its 
processes  are  in  some  sense  parallel  to  those  of  the  brain.  Ac- 
cording to  psycho-physical  parallelism,  there  is  always  a  nerv- 
ous process  concomitant  with  a  mental  process.  You  see  me 
look  at  a  book,  take  it  up,  and  read  in  it,  and  then  lay  it  down 
again  on  the  table.  What  you  perceive  in  my  behavior  is 
wholly  physical.  A  scientific  description  of  it  would  be  made 
from  your  standpoint.  You  could  say  that  an  image  of  the 
book  was  reflected  on  the  retinae  of  my  eyes,  that  nerve  cur- 
rents ran  up  from  the  eyes  to  the  occipital  lobes  in  the  cortex, 
that  reactions  in  other  cortical  centers  were  next  evoked,  from 
which  a  current  ran  down  from  the  motor  brain  areas  to  my 
hand  and  the  book  was  picked  up.  Parallel  with  all  this,  how- 
ever, was  the  process  as  7  felt  it  in  my  consciousness.  I  per- 
ceived the  book,  it  suggested  some  interesting  question  to  my 


422  IMM  ^l-.T 

mind,  I  felt  an  impulse  to  pick  it  up,  and  did  so.  I  felt  the 
process  from  within — that  was  consciousness;  you  observed  it 
from  without — that  was  a  physical  process.  The  two  series 
of  events  are  parallel. 

It  might  at  first  appear  that  psycho-physical  parallelism 
necessarily  implies  that  consciousness  must  cease  when  neural 
action  ceases.  The  two  are  concomitant  in  life,  the  former 
cannot  continue  without  the  latter.  However,  this  does  not 
necessarily  follow.  To  suppose  that  there  are  two  series  of 
processes,  a  mental  series  and  a  physical  series,  and  that  the 
mental  never  appears  except  in  connection  with  the  physical, 
though  it  is  neither  the  cause  nor  the  effect  of  the  physical, 
may  be  advantageous  for  procedure  in  psychological  investi- 
gations. It  makes  it  possible  to  study  either  series  by  itself, 
leaving  the  other  out  of  account,  and  psychology  can  concern 
itself  exclusively  with  the  conscious  series,  and  physiology 
with  the  mental  series.  Each  series  thus  has  a  homogeneous 
material  to  work  upon.  But  advantageous  and  justifiable  as 
such  an  hypothesis  may  be  as  a  methodological  assumption  for 
these  sciences,  it  does  not  answer  the  requirements  of  philo- 
sophy, which  cannot  well  affirm  that  there  actually  are  two  un- 
related but  completely  parallel  series  of  events.  Parallelists 
in  psychology,  therefore,  when  they  become  philosophers  are 
obliged  to  find  some  other  explanation.  They  may  say  that 
the  two  concomitant  mental  and  physical  series  are  after  all 
really  the  same  events  viewed  from  the  inside  and  the  outside; 
if  a  parallelist  holds  this  view,  and  at  the  same  time  believes 
that  there  is  a  universal  parallelism  between  mind  and  matter, 
i.  e.,  panpsychism — he  may  believe  that  when  the  matter  of  the 
body  is  dissolved  in  death,  but  not  actually  destroyed,  since 
matter  is  indestructible,  the  mind  also  persists  in  the  mind  of 
God.  Some  parallelists,  like  Fechner  and  Paulsen,  have  even 
thought  that  the  relative  independence  of  the  individual's  mind 
is  preserved  under  these  conditions,  11. 

Other  parallelists  regard  the  construction  of  the  two  series, 
mental  and  physical,  as  a  wholly  artificial  procedure,  justifiable 
for  the  purposes  of  science,  but  untrue  of  reality.  Hugo 
Miinsterberg  was  a  parallelist  who  looked  at  the  matter  thus. 
"To  honor  science  means  to  respect  its  limitations:  science  is 
not  and  cannot  be,  and  ought  never  to  try  to  be,  an  expres- 
sion of  ultimate  reality.  When  science  seeks  to  be  a  philo- 


SCIENTIFICALLY  POSSIBLE 

sophy,  It  not  only  oversteps  its  rights,  but  weakens  its  own 
positions.  .  .  Science  is  an  instrument  constructed  by 
human  will  in  the  service  of  human  purposes.  It  is  a  valuable, 
reliable,  and  indispensable  instrument ;  but  it  is,  like  any  instru- 
ment, an  artificial  construction ;  which  has  meaning  only  in 
view  of  its  purpose."  To  achieve  the  practical  purposes  of 
science  it  is  necessary  to  substitute  for  the  real  world  an  arti- 
ficial world  of  causes  and  effects  that  follow  one  another  in 
time.  While  this  construction  serves  our  real  life,  it  remains 
"an  artificial  construction  whose  right  and  value  do  not  go 
beyond  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  fabricated."  No  science 
can  say  anything  about  ourselves,  who  make  the  sciences.  In 
reality  we  are  free,  and  only  in  our  own  practical  interests  have 
we  constructed  the  sciences.  The  real  life  as  a  system  of  inter- 
related "will  attitudes"  is  beyond  time,  independent  of  life  and 
death,  and  immortal  in  the  Absolute,  12. 

Our  conclusion,  therefore,  is,  that  immortality  of  some  sort, 
in  which  the  contents  of  the  individual's  consciousness  are  pre- 
served after  death,  is  possible,  so  far  as  present  scientific 
knowledge  goes.  If  this  conclusion  is  sound,  we  shall  expect 
to  find  in  agreement  with  it  the  majority  of  scientists,  at  least 
of  those  who  have  considered  the  question  broadly,  with  some 
regard  to  the  place  of  science  in  a  philosophical  view  of  the 
world.  And  this,  the  author  believes,  is  the  real  outcome  of  a 
very  carefully  prepared  questionnaire  which  Professor  James 
H.  Leuba  has  submitted  to  numerous  physicists,  biologists,  his- 
torians, sociologists,  and  psychologists  in  this  country,  al- 
though Professor  Leuba  might  be  reluctant  to  admit  it,  13.  The 
questions  which  Professor  Leuba  asked  these  men  had  refer- 
ence to  personal  immortality,  conceived  more  narrowly  than  in 
this  chapter,  so  that  those  who  believe  in  the  type  of  immortal- 
ity held  by  Miinsterberg  would  have  to  be  classed  in  the  nega- 
tive. Of  those  who  replied  to  the  questionnaire,  about  one- 
half  believed  in  personal  immortality  (as  narrowly  defined  in 
the  questionnaire)  and  the  majority  of  the  rest  were  in  doubt. 
In  an  impartial  manner  the  most  eminent  men  in  each  profes- 
sion were  separated  from  the  rest.  Among  these  those  who 
believed  in  personal  immortality,  those  who  disbelieved  in  it, 
and  those  who  were  in  doubt  each  constituted  about  one-third 
of  the  total  number,  14.  Among  biologists  and  psychologists, 
— men  whose  work  brings  them  directly  into  contact  with  ques- 
tions of  the  relationship  between  the  mind  and  body, — the  per- 


424  IMMORTALITY 

centage  who  disbelieve  in  personal  immortality  is  greater  than 
in  the  case  of  the  other  groups. 

It  is  evident  that  those  who  are  in  doubt  whether  or  not  there 
is  personal  immortality  do  not  believe  that  it  is  a  scientific 
impossibility;  otherwise,  they  certainly  would  disbelieve  in  it. 
So  it  is  not  a  misinterpretation  of  Professor  Leuba's  statistics 
to  say  that  at  least  two-thirds  of  his  scientists  regard  per- 
sonal immortality  as  at  any  rate  possible.  The  replies  that  Pro- 
fessor Leuba  received  from  philosophers  did  not  admit  of  class- 
ification, one  writing  that  he  could  not  answer  such  questions 
with  a  simple  "Yes"  or  "No,"  and  another  that  he  believed  in  a 
meaning  for  such  terms  as  "personal  immortality"  but  not  in 
the  apparent  meaning  of  the  questions,  while  the  replies  of 
others  showed  that  the  same  answers  to  a  question  could  not 
be  taken  to  express  in  all  cases  the  same  view  on  the  subject. 

So  Professor  Leuba's  results  are  precisely  what  we  should 
expect.  Scientists  are  about  equally  divided  into  three  groups, 
those  who  believe  in  personal  immortality,  those  who  disbelieve 
in  it,  and  those  who  are  in  doubt  upon  the  subject.  Biologists 
and  psychologists  probably  are  more  skeptical  than  the  rest, 
because  the  subject  suggests  to  their  minds  the  dubious  results 
of  psychical  research.  Philosophers,  who  alone  have  given  this 
subject  consideration  on  all  sides,  cannot  express  by  a  simple 
"Yes,"  "No"  or  "Am  in  doubt"  whether  they  believe  in  "per- 
sonal immortality ;"  like  the  author,  it  all  depends  on  what  is 
meant  by  "personal  immortality"  and  it  would  take  at  least 
one  chapter  in  a  book  to  make  their  position  clear.  This  out- 
come which  the  author  has  attributed  to  Professor's  Leuba's 
investigations  is  all  the  more  significant  because  Professor 
Leuba  certainly  was  not  endeavoring  to  make  out  a  case  for 
personal  immortality,  in  which  he  strongly  disbelieves  him- 
self. He  interprets  his  statistics  to  show  that  a  majority  of 
scientists  do  not  believe  in  personal  immortality — a  conclusion 
at  which  he  arrives  by  including  those  in  doubt  among  those 
who  do  not  believe  in  it.  Of  course,  in  a  way,  this  is  justifiable; 
a  man  in  doubt  upon  a  proposition  may  be  said  in  a  sense,  not 
to  believe  in  it ;  but  it  is  equally  true  to  say  that  he  does  not  dis- 
believe in  it,  that  is,  he  admits  its  possibility. 

IV — What  Kind  of  Personal  Immortality  is  Morally  Desirable? 

As  has  been  seen,  all  that  can  be  claimed  for  personal  im- 
mortality on  scientific  grounds  is  its  possibility.  The  deciding 


MORALLY  DESIRABLE  425 

arguments  for  it  must  be  found  elsewhere.  Since  the  time  of 
Kant,  most  philosophers  believe  that  the  strongest  of  these  are 
the  moral  arguments.  These  are  based  on  the  prior  assump- 
tion that  this  is  at  bottom  a  moral  universe, — a  universe  in 
which  moral  ends  are  achieved  and  moral  values  are  conserved. 
In  such  a  universe  the  kind  of  personal  immortality  that  would 
exist  would  of  course  be  a  morally  desirable  kind.  By  a  mor- 
ally desirable  kind  is  not  meant  necessarily  a  kind  that  we  may 
fancy  that  we  should  find  agreeable,  but  a  kind  that  appears 
to  us  morally  right  and  just,  so  that  the  universe  would  be 
of  less  moral  worth  without  such  immortality  than  with  it. 

In  the  first  place,  a  future  life  that  would  be  morally  desir- 
able must  be  one  in  which  the  state  of  the  good  man  will  be 
bound  to  be  forever  morally  better  than  it  now  is.  If  a  future 
existence  were  conceived  to  be  subject  to  the  "wheel  of  birth," 
so  that  a  good  man  in  his  next  life  might  be  tempted  and  fall, 
and  in  subsequent  rebirths  be  reduced  to  a  lower  condition  than 
he  now  is,  immortality  would  be  horrible  to  contemplate  and 
morally  undesirable.  Some  means  of  escape  from  rebirth  would 
then  have  to  be  sought,  such  as  Brahmanism  and  Buddhism 
profess  to  offer.  Nor  could  a  morally  desirable  universe  be 
governed  by  Nietzche's  law  of  "eternal  recurrence,"  in  which 
the  present  life  must  sometime  be  exactly  repeated.  Few  men 
or  women  probably  would  care  to  lead  their  present  lives  over 
again  if  given  the  choice  between  so  doing  and  annihilation ; 
certainly  none  would  desire  to  do  so  if  they  would  be  afforded 
no  opportunity  to  profit  by  present  experience  and  so  to  im- 
prove upon  the  choices  that  they  have  made  in  the  present  life. 
Few  plays  are  worth  seeing  twice,  and  few  books  are  worth  re- 
reading; the  exceptions  are  due  to  the  chance  to  gain  further 
insight  and  profit  from  what  had  previously  escaped  attention. 
No  life  could  be  worth  reliving  unless  the  repetition  would  be 
an  improvement. 

So  a  future  life  that  would  be  morally  desirable  must  be  a 
life  in  which,  for  the  good  man,  there  must  either  be  the  actual 
attainment  of  perfection,  or  assured  progress  in  its  direction. 
There  must  be  no  danger  of  standing  still  or  slipping  back- 
ward; better  absolute  annihilation  than  either  of  those!  The 
"perseverance  of  the  saints"  is  a  dogma  attached  to  the  post- 
ulate of  a  morally  desirable  immortality.  Moreover,  in  the 
future  life  individual  personalities  must  in  some  sense  be  con- 
served, or  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  say,  what  is  of  value 


426  IMMORTALITY 

in  them  must  endure.  In  the  future  life  -what  is  strong  and 
beautiful  and  true  and  in  a  fine  way  distinctive  in  a  good  man 
must  survive.  Whether  the  individual  should  persist  as  a  sep- 
arate soul,  or  whether  he  should  become  an  integral  part  of 
God's  mind  and  memory  and  will,  is  yet  to  be  considered.  But, 
at  any  event,  his  immortality  must  at  least  be  personal ;  it  may 
be  superpersonal. 

Such  are  some  of  the  general  features  of  a  personal  immor- 
tality that  can  be  regarded  as  morally  desirable.  It  would 
appear  necessary  that  it  would  be  an  outcome  on  a  higher 
moral  plane,  of  the  achievements  in  one's  present  career.  It 
would  also  appear  desirable,  if  possible,  that  in  it  there  should 
be  conscious  memory  of  the  present  life,  a  sense  of  continuity 
that  would  not  be  lost  in  the  attainment  of  the  larger  life,  in- 
tercourse with  friends,  and  all  the  other  higher  goods  of  which 
we  can  conceive.  If  the  reader  can  confidently  believe  that  the 
universe  is  absolutely  teleological  and  moral,  he  ought  to  feel 
certain  that  the  future  life  will  afford  full  conservation  and 
enhancement  of  everything  that  is  morally  desirable  in  this  life, 
wrought  to  its  highest  consummation.  But  if,  like  the  author, 
his  faith  does  not  fly  so  high,  and  he  can  merely  believe  that 
this  is  a  universe  in  which  teleological  and  moral  ends  are  only 
gradually  becoming  dominant,  he  may  not  expect  so  much,  and 
may  have  to  content  himself  with  believing  that  the  most  essen- 
tial values  are  conserved.  As  a  minimum,  the  immortality  that 
is  morally  desirable  must,  in  the  words  of  Lowes  Dickinson, 
be  "one  in  which  a  continuity  of  experience  analogous  to  that 
which  we  are  aware  of  here  is  carried  on  after  death,  the  essence 
of  that  life  being  the  continuous  unfolding,  no  doubt  through 
stress  and  conflict,  of  those  potentialities  of  good  of  which 
we  are  aware  here  as  the  most  significant  part  of  ourselves,"  15. 

V — Arguments  for  Personal  Immortality  as  a  Postulate 

The  arguments  for  the  postulation  of  personal  immortality 
have  already  been  anticipated  in  preceding  chapters.  We  have 
seen  that  if  this  is  a  teleological  universe,  one  of  the  cosmic 
purposes  must  be  the  higher  development  of  man  upon  this 
planet.  This  higher  development  of  man,  we  saw  too,  on  the 
assumption  that  this  is  a  moral  universe,  must  include  his  moral 
development.  And  a  teleological  universe  would  pretty  cer- 
tainly be  a  moral  universe,  as  moral  ends  are  the  highest  ends 
of  which  we  know,  16.  If,  then,  there  is  a  teleological  and  moral 


MORALLY  DESIRABLE  427 

evolution  going  on  in  the  universe  that  has  had  as  one  of  its 
results  the  appearance  of  good  men  with  rational  powers  and 
moral  insight,  it  would  seem  that  the  personalities  of  these  men 
(or  of  the  good  elements  in  the  personalities  of  all  men)  would 
survive  death.  The  personality  of  a  good  man  is  the  most 
valuable  thing  of  which  we  know.  If  such  personalities  can 
survive  death  and  continue  to  develop  and  to  be  of  service,  the 
universe  is  richer  in  value  than  if  these  personalities  are  bound 
to  perish. 

Of  two  conceivable  universes,  one  in  which  good  personali- 
ties can  merely  persist  in  biological  and  spiritual  immortality 
but  must  otherwise  pass  away,  and  one  in  which  these  good 
personalities  are  forever  conserved,  the  latter  is  infinitely  the 
better,  and  as  a  teleological  and  moral  universe,  the  more  suc- 
cessful. In  an  absolutely  teleological  and  moral  universe,  per- 
sonal immortality  of  good  men,  or  of  the  good  elements  in  all 
men,  is  a  necessary  feature ;  in  a  universe  in  which  the  teleolog- 
ical principle  is  coming  increasingly  to  prevail,  and  moral  ends 
are  being  accomplished,  such  immortality  is  clearly  a  most 
highly  desirable  end,  and  one  that  has  been  realized  if  God  has 
been  able  to  bring  it  about.  If  God  be  Absolute,  such  immor- 
tality is  in  some  sense  assured ;  if  God  be  finite,  such  immor- 
tality is  certainly  an  end  that  He  desires  for  those  who  are 
likest  Him,  and  which  in  all  probability  He  is  able  to  assure 
to  them. 

Whatever  may  be  the  purposes  of  God  in  the  universe  as 
a  whole,  the  retention  in  Himself — or  with  Himself — of  the 
highest  products  of  each  planet  must  be  among  them.  Whether 
this  retention  is  eternal  or  in  time,  and  whether  and  in  what 
sense  it  involves  the  persistence  of  separate  souls,  are  matters 
of  detail  for  later  consideration.  But  retention  of  some  sort 
appears  to  be  necessarily  implied  in  an  absolutely  teleological 
and  moral  universe,  and  probable  in  a  universe  in  which  tele- 
ology and  morality  are  becoming  increasingly  dominant. 

Further  moral  arguments  for  personal  immortality,  as  we 
saw  in  Chapter  XIX,  follow  from  considerations  of  the  meaning 
of  duty  and  the  relation  that  morally  ought  to  prevail  between 
the  fulfilment  of  duty  and  the  obtainment  of  happiness,  17. 

VI — Types  of  Immortality  as  a  Postulate 

If  we  may  now  regard  personal  immortality  as  morally  de- 
sirable, and  conclude  to  believe  in  it  as  at  least  a  probable 


428  IMMORTALITY 

postulate,  in  what  sort  of  personal  immortality  shall  we  be- 
lieve? (1)  Shall  we  believe  in  personal  immortality  of  indi- 
viduals as  separate  souls?  (2)  Shall  we  prefer  the  view  that 
the  personalities  of  individuals  are  somehow  conserved  in  the 
mind  and  will  of  the  World  Soul  or  God?  (3)  Or  is  some 
combination  of  the  two  conceptions  preferable  to  either  taken 
by  itself? 

In  considering  such  possibilities  as  these,  we  are  of  course 
entering  into  a  domain  of  pure  speculation.  We  are  there- 
fore justified  in  exercising  our  imaginations  to  the  utmost.  In 
attempting  to  conceive  of  a  state  of  life  that  we  believe  to  be 
a  vast  advance  upon  our  present  state  we  can  be  sure  that  our 
imaginations  are  far  too  likely  to  fail  to  do  justice  to  its  char- 
acteristics. How  difficult  it  is  to  predict  conditions  here  on 
earth  a  generation  in  advance!  How  greatly  have  those  failed 
to  anticipate  present  conditions  who  made  the  attempt  a  gen- 
eration ago!  And  their  failures  were  chiefly  due  to  lack  of 
imagination, — to  inability  to  realize  what  great  changes  might 
come.  When  we  attempt  to  conceive  of  a  state  of  existence 
immeasurably  different  from  and  superior  to  the  present,  our 
imaginations,  though  given  free  rein,  must  fail  to  picture  the 
reality  adequately. 

"And  when  I   fain  would  sing  them, 

My  spirit  fails  and  faints. 
And  vainly  would  it  image 
The  assembly  of  the  Saints. 


Thy  loveliness  oppresses 

All  human  thought  and  heart; 
And  none,  O  peace,  O  Zion, 

Can  sing  thee  as  thou  art!"  18. 

However,  in  considering  the  possibilities  of  the  future  life,  it 
is  not  our  function  as  philosophical  students  to  endeavor  to 
rival  the  visions  of  the  mystical  poets.  There  are  two  criteria 
that  we  must  constantly  employ.  (1)  Since  we  are  consenting 
to  believe  in  personal  immortality  as  probable  on  moral  grounds, 
we  should  regard  that  type  of  immortality  as  most  probable 
that  appears  to  us  most  fully  to  meet  moral  requirements. 
The  most  morally  desirable  type  of  immortality  which  we  can 
imagine  is,  in  other  words,  the  closest  approximation,  at  which 
we  can  arrive,  to  the  kind  that  actually  exists.  (2)  The  details 
in  our  view  of  immortality  must  be  logically  consistent  with 
one  another,  and  with  our  other  philosophical  opinions. 


AS  A  SEPARATE  SOUL  429 

With  these  criteria  in  mind,  and  remembering  not  to  be 
afraid  to  give  rein  to  our  imaginations,  let  us  consider  th« 
three  possibilities  mentioned. 

(1) — Continued  Existence  as  a  Separate  Soul 

On  this  view,  each  individual  would  continue  to  exist  separate 
from  other  individuals  in  the  future,  just  as  he  does  now.  Un- 
less the  dubious  doctrine  of  the  pre-existence  of  individual  souls 
prior  to  this  life  be  combined  with  this  view  (19)  we  must  sup- 
pose that  new  individuals  are  constantly  coming  into  exist- 
ence at  birth.  The  number  of  separate  souls  in  the  universe 
must  therefore  continually  be  upon  the  increase.  The  universe 
must  be  a  constantly  enlarging  society.  These  souls,  too, 
must  be  continually  advancing ;  for,  unless  their  perpetual  pro- 
gress be  assured,  this  type  of  immortality  would  not  be  morally 
desirable,  and  could  not  occur  in  a  teleological  and  moral  uni- 
verse. This  conception  of  immortality  would  accord  with  the 
theories  upon  the  relationship  between  the  mind  and  the  body 
advanced  by  William  James,  Professor  Bergson,  and  Professor 
McDougall,  which  we  have  observed.  There  are  no  serious 
scientific  objections  to  this  view.  To  say  that  there  would  not 
be  room  enough  in  space  to  hold  so  many  souls,  is  not  a  serious 
objection;  since  it  could  be  urged  that  space,  as  well  as  time, 
matter,  motion,  cause,  effect,  and  all  other  ordinary  scientific 
conceptions  are  merely  teleological  devices  or  instruments 
adopted  by  our  minds  for  limited  purposes,  and  that  they  do 
not  literally  apply  to  the  world  as  it  actually  exists.  After 
death  the  souls  would  find  themselves  in  a  universe  more  vast 
than  we  can  conceive  with  our  limited  categories. 

"For  tho'  from  out  our  bourne  of  Time  and  Place 
The  flood  may  bear  me  far." 

Two  objections  to  this  theory  may  need  to  be  noticed.  First, 
it  might  be  objected,  as  James  points  out,  (20)  that  such  a  host 
of  undesirable  souls  would  persist  eternally — all  the  Hottentots 
and  Australians  that  have  been,  and  ever  shall  be,  and  all  the 
Chinamen !  A  few  chosen  specimens  of  such  races  surely  would 
be  enough  to  be  preserved.  "Life  is  a  good  thing  on  a  reason- 
ably copious  scale;  but  the  very  heavens  themselves,  and  the 
cosmic  times  and  spaces,  would  stand  aghast,  we  think,  at  the 
notion  of  preserving  eternally  such  an  ever-swelling  plethora 
and  glut  of  it."  So  we  conclude  that  .we  had  rather  not  be 


430  IMMORTALITY 

immortal  ourselves,  than  to  have  to  participate  in  an  immertal- 
ity  shared  by  an  inconceivably  huge  horde  of  such  creatures. 
James  says,  in  reply,  that  we  must  believe  that  this  is  a  demo- 
cratic universe  in  which  our  paltry  exclusions  play  no  regula- 
tive part,  that  God  on  the  theistic  view  has  "so  inexhaustible 
a  capacity  for  love  that  his  call  and  need  is  for  a  literally  end- 
less accumulation  of  created  lives,"  and  on  the  pantheistic 
view,  that  through  "so  many  diversified  channels  of  expres- 
sion, the  eternal  Spirit  of  the  Universe  affirms  and  realizes  its 
own  infinite  life."  Another  point  that  could  be  made  in  reply 
is  that  in  a  future  life  on  an  inconceivably  higher  moral  and 
spiritual  plane  than  this — the  only  possibility  that  would  be 
morally  desirable — there  would  be  no  souls  that  would  in  that 
state  be  Chinese  or  Hottentots  as  we  know  them  here — nor 
Americans  or  Europeans  either.  The  white  man  would  not  be 
disgusted  at  the  savagery  of  the  black  fellow  or  the  alien  stand- 
ards of  the  Chinese,  nor  would  the  latter  have  occasion  to  fear 
the  ruthless  cruelty  and  exploitation  of  white  men.  The  souls 
of  all  human  beings  would  have  advanced  to  a  degree  in  com- 
parison with  which  the  present  differences  in  culture  between 
the  various  races  on  earth — differences  due  to  only  a  few  thou- 
sand years  in  terrestrial  history  at  most — would  be  totally  neg- 
ligible. 

The  other  objection  may  be  stated  thus.  "On  this  argu- 
ment why  ought  one  not  to  assume  that  animals  are  immortal 
also  ?"  It  may  be  replied  that  it  is  indeed  quite  conceivable  that 
animal  souls,  too,  progress  into  higher  forms  of  perfection  in 
the  next  world,  as  well  as  we.  Why  not?  They,  too,  may  be 
necessary  for  the  varied  expression  of  the  Infinite  Life,  or  the 
inexhaustible  love  of  God;  and  they,  too,  there  will  live  on  a 
higher  plane  of  existence  than  here.  A  slight  moral  argument 
for  animal  immortality  may  be  urged.  Should  even  a  worm 
be  cloven  in  vain,  or  merely  subserve  another's  good?  If  spar- 
rows do  not  fall  to  the  ground  without  the  Heavenly  Father's 
notice,  must  their  souls  not  endure,  and  they,  too,  be  given  op- 
portunity for  future  advancement?  On  the  contrary,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  the  moral  arguments  are  not  so  strong  for 
animal  as  for  human  immortality.  Only  man  has  reason  and 
a  moral  consciousness.  The  values  conserved  by  the  immor- 
tality of  animals  would  be  of  less  consequence  for  the  universe. 
On  psychological  grounds,  too,  animal  immortality  appears 
less  probable.  An  animal's  mind  does  not  rise  superior  to  its 


IN  GOD  431 

environment,  and  assume  control  of  it  to  the  same  extent  as  a 
man's;  it  seems  less  likely  that  the  consciousness  of  an  animal 
can  survive  the  shock  of  death  and  the  dissolution  of  its  body. 
The  chief  moral  arguments  in  favor  of  this  type  of  immor- 
tality (the  persistence  of  separate  souls)  may  be  briefly  stated. 
It  assures  the  persistence  of  the  individual,  with  his  unique 
traits  and  talents.  Continuity  with  this  life  is  most  clear  and 
complete  on  this  view.  Recognition  of  friends  is  rendered 
probable.  The  fulfilment  of  moral  tasks  and  the  gaining  of 
happiness  by  the  same  individual  who  has  labored,  and  achieved 
and  suffered  here  is  made  certain.  Fulfilment  of  duty,  self- 
development,  love,  happiness, — all  the  distinctive  moral  values 
— appear  to  us  most  realizable  in  a  society  of  separate  indiv- 
idual souls  working  together  for  common  ends  and  sharing 
common  joys, — and  burdens,  too,  perhaps.  Existence  as  a 
separate  soul,  perhaps  it  should  be  added,  is  the  type  of  im- 
mortality to  which  the  data  furnished  by  psychical  research, 
would  point,  if  accepted  as  evidence. 

(2) — Continued  Existence  in  God 

According  to  the  conception  which  we  must  next  consider, 
the  separate  existence  of  the  individual  in  time  ends  with  his 
death.  When  the  spirit  returns  to  God  who  gave  it,  its  tem- 
poral career  as  an  individual  is  ended.  It  continues  biologic- 
ally and  spiritually  to  live  in  other  finite  beings,  to  be  sure. 
It  also  lives  in  the  mind  of  the  Infinite,  where  the  memory  of 
its  life  endures  eternally.  This  conception  of  immortality  has 
been  held  by  many  philosophers  and  mystics.  To  attain  con- 
sciousness in  this  life,  of  such  identity  with  the  Infinite,  and 
so  even  now  to  rise  above  time  and  live  in 'eternity,  has  been  the 
effort  of  many  of  the  great  religious  thinkers  of  India,  as  well 
as  of  Plotinus,  Spinoza,  and  many  another  spiritually  minded 
philosopher  in  the  Occident. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  much  that  is  morally  attrac- 
tive in  some  of  the  Oriental  versions  of  this  conception,  in  which 
the  individual  is  exhorted  to  tenderness  and  affection  for  all 
things  as  fundamentally  one  with  himself,  and  in  which  he  is 
promised  liberation  from  his  finite  limitations  and  moral  as  well 
as  physical  weaknesses  through  absorption  in  God  or  the  Uni- 
verse. However,  such  a  state  of  absorption  often  seems  repel- 
lent to  the  Occidental  mind ;  it  is  too  much  like  annihilation, 
or  at  best,  eternal  stagnation.  No  Nirvana  of  eternal  rest  and 


432  IMMORTALITY 

quiet  can  evoke  a  sympathetic  response  in  our  active  natures. 
Spinoza's  conception  of  the  "intellectual  love  of  God,"  (21)  by 
which  man  may  learn  to  be  free  from  passions,  ever  to  return 
good  for  evil,  and  to  rejoice  in  a  calm  acquiescence  induced  by 
a  steadfast  regard  of  all  things  from  the  standpoint  of  etern- 
ity, is  not  wholly  satisfactory,  either. 

But  there  is  no  need  to  regard  the  state  of  immortality  in 
God  as  one  of  such  absolute  quiescence.  It  has  been  regarded 
by  such  philosophers  as  Fichte  (22)  and  Miinsterberg  (23)  as 
one  of  unceasing  activity ;  the  whole  course  of  things  in  the 
Universe  is  the  expression  of  His  unceasing  will.  To  be  one 
with  God  may  therefore  mean  to  share  in  the  consciousness  of 
this  eternal  Will.  Even  if  the  Absolute  be  conceived  with  em- 
phasis on  cognition  rather  than  volition,  the  Universal  Mind 
is  by  no  means  one  of  torpor,  it  is  the  mind  of  the  universe  as 
a  whole,  perceived  in  all  its  relations  in  their  systematic  unity. 
To  be  one  with  such  a  God  or  Absolute  would  by  no  means  im- 
ply a  state  of  quiescence,  but  rather  one  of  eternally  creative 
intellectual  activity,  24. 

Sometimes  the  objection  is  raised  against  this  form  of  im- 
mortality, that  it  is  impersonal.  In  reply,  defenders  can  ask, 
"What  is  it  to  be  a  person?  When  we  speak  of  anyone  as 
having  a  strong  or  a  weak  personality,  what  do  we  mean?  The 
strong  personality  possesses  breadth  of  knowledge,  of  sympathy, 
of  capacities  for  action.  The  more  a  person  understands,  the 
more  he  can  do,  the  more  self-reliant  he  is,  the  more  his  decisions 
are  determined  by  his  own  choices  intelligently  made,  the  more 
he  masters  the  conditions  of  his  environment  instead  of  being 
forced  to  act  by  the  pressure  of  external  conditions,  the  strong- 
er, we  say,  is  his  personality.  The  stubborn,  stupid,  narrow 
minded  individual  has  a  small  personality,  and  so  has  the  in- 
stable  fellow  who  has  no  steadfast  purposes  and  is  carried  along 
by  the  drift  of  the  tide.  The  more  inclusive  a  man's  purposes, 
the  broader  his  sympathies,  the  deeper  his  understanding,  the 
more  nearly  complete  is  his  personality.  It  follows  that  in  the 
whole  universe  there  is  just  one  absolutely  complete  and  all  suffi- 
cient Person  or  Individual,  and  that  is  the  one  universal  Mind 
that  includes  all  finite  thoughts  and  purposes  in  an  eternally 
completed  whole.  To  become  identified  with  such  a  Person  is  not 
to  lose  one's  own  personality,  but  to  achieve  it  and  to  perfect 
it.  As  separate  individuals,  we  are  bound  to  be  finite,  limited 
in  our  capacities  to  understand  and  to  do,  restricted  by  an 


IN  GOD  433 

environment  that  is  external  to  us  and  which  we  can  only  in 
part  master  and  make  subservient  to  ourselves.  To  be  one 
with  God  or  the  Absolute  is  in  some  sense  to  gain  infinite  Per- 
sonality ;  to  find  all  our  wants  satisfied,  all  our  questions  an- 
swered, to  gain  eternal  completion." 

In  fact,  some  advocates  of  this  conception  of  immortality 
argue  that  to  desire  continued  existence  as  a  separate  soul,  ins 
preference  to  such  identification  with  the  one  complete  Person, 
is  to  be  small  and  selfish,  to  prefer  a  narrowed  outlook  to  a 
wide  one,  limited  sympathies  and  prejudices  to  universal  love, 
petty  purposes  to  world  purposes.  The  most  splendid  destiny 
we  could  hope  for  others  or  desire  for  ourselves  is  to  become 
one  with  God.  Far  from  being  impersonal,  this  type  of  im- 
mortality is  the  only  kind  that  is  truly  personal;  or  perhaps 
one  had  better  say  it  is  superpersonal,  since  it  includes  within 
itself  all  that  we  ordinarily  mean  by  personality,  and  more 
besides. 

Possibly,  in  the  effort  to  envisage  this  kind  of  immortality, 
some  will  find  help  in  an  analogy  from  pathological  psychology, 
although  the  analogy  is  necessarily  very  imperfect,  and  must 
not  be  pushed  too  far.  Dr.  Morton  Prince,  in  his  Dissociation 
of  a  Personality,  tells  us  how,  in  restoring  integral  life  to  Miss 
Beauchamp,  it  became  necessary  to  coordinate  all  the  separate 
personalities  into  which  her  mind  had  become  broken.  He  re- 
gretted that  to  accomplish  this  end  it  became  necessary  to  sup- 
press one  personality,  "Sally,"  that  was  very  attractive  in 
many  ways.  Yet,  if  the  author  understands  the  account  cor- 
rectly, after  Miss  Beauchamp's  memory  had  become  fully  re- 
united, she  was  able  to  recall  all  the  actions  and  thoughts  of 
all  the  separate  personalities  into  which  her  mind  had  at  one 
time  been  sundered.  "Sally,"  though  no  longer  a  separate, 
limited  personality,  sometimes  in  rivalry  and  antagonism  to 
other  limited  personalities,  lived  in  the  after  life  of  Miss  Beau- 
champ.  The  latter  could  remember  all  she  had  ever  thought 
and  done  as  Sally.  In  this  larger  life  Sally's  limitations  were 
overcome  and  yet  she  lived  on  in  sympathy  with  and  under- 
standing of  what  had  been  the  other  fragments  of  a  severed 
personality.  Neither  Sally  nor  any  of  her  rivals  had  been  really 
a  human  person;  yet  none  of  them  realized  their  defects,  nor 
that  only  by  becoming  merged  into  a  single  consciousness  could 
they  achieve  the  normal  conditions  of  a  human  personality. 


434  IMMORTALITY 

As  separate  personalities  they  had  to  die,  in  order  that  they 
might  achieve  a  fuller  personality. 

So  it  is  with  us.  To  save  our  lives  we  must  lose  them.  As 
separate  souls  we  must  die;  to  find  our  lives  in  God  we  must 
lose  them  as  separate  individuals ;  only  thus  can  we  achieve  real 
Individuality  and  Personality.  May  not  God  eternally  remem- 
ber all  the  separate  careers  of  all  the  separate  souls,  who  are 
now  sundered  from  Him,  but  whose  destiny  it  is  to  become  ulti- 
mately united  with  Him  forever?  Each  separate  soul  shall 
become  one  with  all  the  rest  in  God.  What  is  it  now  to  love  a 
friend?  Is  it  not  to  have  common  joys,  common  understand- 
ings, common  purposes  and  aspirations?  What  bliss  it  will  be 
in  all  eternity  for  all  our  thoughts  and  desires  to  become  merged 
in  a  common  Mind!  For  reasons  that  we  do  not  now  under- 
stand, the  World  Soul,  to  complete  His  purposes,  has  had  to 
become  partly  broken  up  into  a  lot  of  separate  souls,  each  only 
a  fragment  of  His  Personality,  with  its  part  to  perform  for  the 
good  of  the  universe  as  a  whole.  But  when  the  task  of  each 
of  these  separate  souls  is  completed,  and  its  debt  of  separate 
existence  paid,  what  more  heavenly  reward  can  it  have  than  to 
return  home  again  to  God,  and  in  identity  with  Him  to  think 
and  plan  and  will  and  enjoy  the  universe  to  all  eternity!  How 
more  completely  could  "the  chief  end  of  man"  be  fulfilled ! 

The  moral  advantages  in  this  type  of  immortality  have  been 
indicated.  From  a  scientific  standpoint,  it  escapes  the  difficul- 
ties involved  in  supposing  that  the  soul  of  man  is  a  separate 
substance  of  some  sort  or  other  now  in  interaction  with  his 
body,  and  able  to  survive  severance  from  it  at  death.  Just  as 
at  death  the  individual's  body  loses  its  identity,  yet  the  matter 
of  which  it  is  composed  persists,  his  consciousness  also  ceases 
its  career  as  a  separate  individual  but  persists  as  a  part  of  the 
universal  Mind. 

(3) — Attempted  Combination  of  Separateness  with 
Immortality  in  God 

There  remains  another  objection  to  the  theory  of  immor- 
tality in  God  that  should  now  be  indicated.  If  individual  souls 
simply  became  memories  in  the  mind  of  God,  has  not  something 
been  lost,  after  all?  Love  can  only  exist  between  separate 
individuals.  It  is  rather  absurd  to  speak  of  one  of  a  person's 
thoughts  loving  another  of  them.  Is  not  an  eternity  in  the 
Absolute,  where  we  are  only  thoughts  in  a  common  mind,  rather 


JOSIAH  ROYCE  435 

a  lonely  and  forlorn  destiny,  after  all?  If  it  were  possible 
somehow  to  conceive  of  a  form  of  immortality  in  God  in  which 
individuals  should  persist,  and  yet  be  different, — in  which  they 
should  comprehend  and  will  and  enjoy  the  world  order,  and  yet 
be  distinct  from  one  another,  too,  and  so  love  one  another  and 
constitute  a  society,  would  not  that  be  much  better?  In  such 
an  immortality  we  would  know  our  friends ;  while  sharing  a 
common  world  and  a  common  life,  each  should  after  all  mirror 
the  universe  in  his  own  particular  way,  and  be  himself.  "Mech- 
thild  of  Magdeburg,  and  after  her  Dante,  saw  Deity  as  a  flame 
or  river  of  fire  that  filled  the  Universe ;  and  the  'deified'  souls 
of  the  saints  as  ardent  sparks  therein,  ablaze  with  that  fire,  one 
thing  with  it,  yet  distinct,"  25.  Is  it  possible  to  work  out  a 
philosophical  conception  of  immortality  which  at  the  same  time 
would  identify  all  finite  souls  with  God,  and  also  afford  to  each 
a  distinct  individuality? 

Among  the  absolute  idealists  Royce  perhaps  has  made  the  most 
earnest  effort  to  effect  this  combination.  In  his  Ingersoll  Ad- 
dress, entitled  the  Conception  of  Immortality,  he  strongly  in- 
sists upon  the  unique  and  distinctive  worth  of  each  human  be- 
ing. No  one  of  us  can  take  the  place  of  another.  In  a  friend 
or  a  lover  there  are  unique  qualities  of  value  which  exist  in  no 
one  else.  Yet  it  is  impossible  to  define  or  to  describe  these 
qualities  adequately ;  for  when  we  attempt  to  do  so  we  are  ob- 
liged to  make  use  of  general  terms  that  apply  to  types  of 
classes,  and  overlook  the  uniqueness  itself.  So  in  our  present 
life  we  cannot  define  or  describe  what  we  mean  by  a  finite- 
individual.  No  biographer  or  historian  ever  has  adequately 
defined  or  described  Abraham  Lincoln  or  any  other  man  in  so 
far  as  he  was  a  unique  individual ;  and  no  one  ever  will.  Yet 
we  know  that  there  are  such  individuals,  and  that  their  unique 
individuality  is  most  valuable  and  precious  to  those  who  appre- 
ciate them.  We  can  at  least  say  that  the  individuality  of  the 
finite  being  is  always  of  great  value ;  and  that  each  such  person 
expresses  a  purpose.  As  finite  persons  our  purposes  are  never 
fully  realized  in  this  life;  our  attempts  to  carry  out  any  pur- 
pose always  lead  us  on  into  wider  relations  with  other  persons 
and  into  larger  purposes.  The  completion  of  purposes  in  an 
absolute  sense  would  have  to  mean  identification  with  God,  as 
the  Absolute,  in  whom  there  is  a  unity  of  entirely  completed 
purposes ;  only  He  is  an  entirely  whole  Individual.  It  is  clear, 
therefore,  that  our  ultimate  destiny  must  be  to  attain  a  closer 


436  IMMORTALITY 

union  with  God  than  we  now  possess.  "A  will  satisfied  has  in 
God's  whole  life  found  its  goal,  and  seeks  no  other."  Yet  this 
does  not  mean  that  it  is  our  destiny  after  death  to  be  absorbed 
in  God,  so  as  to  lose  our  present  identity.  The  very  fact  that 
we  are  now  unique,  though  finite,  indicates  that  we  constitute 
values  or  purposes  that  are  integral  parts  of  God's  complete 
purpose.  If  the  whole  is  a  complete  fulfillment  of  purpose,  then 
every  fact  in  the  world  occupies  its  unique  place.  We  there- 
fore conceive  eternal  existence  in  God  in  such  a  way  that  our 
distinctness  and  uniqueness  as  individuals  are  none  the  less 
maintained. 

How  the  uniqueness  of  the  finite  individual  is  to  be  preserved, 
Royce  endeavored  to  set  forth  more  explicitly  in  the  closing 
lectures  of  the  World  and  the  Individual.  His  treatment  there 
is  often  obscure,  and  raises  the  suspicion  that  it  may  not  have 
been  entirely  clear  in  his  own  mind.  The  finite  individual,  how- 
ever, he  maintains,  is  immortal  in  various  senses.  He  persists 
in  the  eternal  time  span  of  God  as  an  individual  with  a  purpose 
and  value;  this  truth,  which  is  not  perceived  in  the  finite  con- 
sciousness of  a  human  being  in  this  life,  will  be  clear  to  the 
larger  individual  which  one  will  become  in  the  future  life.  The 
apparent  death  of  a  human  being  is  only  an  incident  in  the 
life  of  a  larger  individual  Self ;  this  larger  Self  continues,  it 
remains  in  individual  contrast  with  the  rest  of  the  world,  and 
the  same  is  true  of  the  human  being  who  is  a  necessary  phase 
of  this  Self.  A  human  being  is  an  ethical  self,  that  is,  a  per- 
son with  a  moral  purpose,  a  duty,  to  perform,  which  is  infinite 
and  can  never  be  fulfilled  in  time ;  this  fulfillment  comes  in  the 
place  that  it  occupies  in  the  eternally  fulfilled  social  life  of  the 
Absolute.  Royce  tries  to  make  his  meaning  clearer  by  mathe- 
matical analogies.  The  various  collections  of  whole  numbers 
can  be  arranged  in  different  series,  so  that,  while  each  collec- 
tion is  infinite,  it  is  unlike  every  other,  and  yet  all  are  inter- 
related. So  each  individual  Self  persists  in  the  Absolute, 
unique,  and  yet  in  communication  with  the  others.  "Our  result 
is  this:  Despite  God's  absolute  unity,  we  as  individuals,  pre- 
serve and  attain  our  unique  lives  and  meanings,  and  are  not 
lost  in  the  very  life  that  sustains  us,  and  that  needs  us  as  its 
expression.  This  life  is  real  through  us  all;  and  we  are  real 
through  our  union  with  that  life,"  26. 

This  is  certainly  a  resolute  attempt  to  afford  a  unique  im- 
mortality to  the  individual  soul,  which  yet  exists  after  death 


THE  AUTHOR'S  OPINIONS  437 

only  in  a  God  who  is  eternally  perfect  and  complete.  Those 
who  are  unpersuaded  will  think  that  no  more  genuinely  indi- 
vidual immortality  has  been  gained  by  it,  than  by  other  pre- 
sentations of  immortality  in  God.  According  to  critics  of 
Royce's  last  book,  the  Problem  of  Christianity,  he  there  suc- 
ceeds better  in  maintaining  the  separateness  of  individual  souls 
and  their  social  union  in  the  Church,  but  at  the  cost  of  making 
God  seem  scarcely  more  than  a  name  for  the  collective  life. 
Royce  believed  that  the  two  books  are  in  harmony  with  each 
other ;  we  know  God  through  society,  and  gain  our  very  indi- 
viduality and  personality  through  society  also. 

(4) — The  Author's  Opinions 

The  author  is  greatly  attracted  by  Royce's  attempt  to  afford 
separate  immortality  to  individuals  and  yet  to  make  them  one 
with  God  in  the  future  life.  He  believes  that  Royce  has  not 
fully  met  the  difficulties,  but  that  along  this  line  future  thought 
on  Immortality  can  profitably  proceed.  However,  unlike  Royce, 
he  does  not  believe  in  a  perfectly  completed  universe  present  in 
an  eternal  time  span  to  the  mind  of  God. 

The  author,  as  has  been  explained  in  previous  chapters,  be- 
lieves God  to  be  finite,  and  the  universe  to  be  developing  in 
time.  He  believes  in  an  immortality  in  the  mind  of  this  finite 
God,  in  which  our  separate  identities  will  continue.  The  moral 
postulates  seem  to  sanction  belief  that  somehow  our  finite  in- 
dividualities shall  thus  persist,  while  it  seems  both  more  morally 
desirable  and  less  open  to  the  difficulties  suggested  by  science, 
to  suppose  that  we  shall  live  in  God,  as  distinct  and  unique 
aspects  of  His  personality  rather  than  in  separation  from  Him 
as  we  now  are. 

What  the  author  favors,  then,  is  an  immortality  in  which 
separate  individuals  shall  persist,  know  one  another,  and  enjoy 
a  mutual  society ;  but  that  this  existence  shall  be  in  God,  and 
not  as  souls  separated  from  Him  and  from  one  another  by 
physical  bodies  as  is  now  the  case.  This  immortality  would  be 
a  life  on  an  immeasurably  higher  moral  and  spiritual  plane 
than  any  of  which  we  now  can  conceive;  in  this  sense  it  may 
be  called  a  state  of  bliss.  But  in  an  imperfect  and  growing 
universe,  immortality  in  a  finite  God  cannot  be  free  from  pains 
and  sorrows,  from  evils  to  be  overcome.  We  shall  share  in  all 
the  good  that  God  knows ;  we  shall  also  share  in  sorrow  at  the 
evil  which  He  also  knows  and  is  endeavoring  to  overcome ;  united 


438  IMMORTALITY 

with  Him  in  knowledge,  affection,  and  volition,  we  «hall  fight 
with  Him  in  the  cosmic  battles  and  rejoice  with  Him  in  His 
and  our  victories. 

VII — Salvation  and  Damnation 

Have  the  theological  notions  of  salvation  and  damnation, 
which  have  come  down  to  us  from  the  past,  any  significance  for 
philosophical  theories  of  immortality  today?  Well,  we  can 
neither  regard  the  description  of  the  harps  and  golden  pave- 
ments and  pearly  gates  nor  that  of  the  fire  and  brimstone 
as  literal  truths.  If  true  at  all,  it  must  be  in  a  symbolical 
sense.  And  the  idea  of  an  angry  God  and  cruel  devils  taking 
delight  in  the  torture  of  the  lost  is  impossible  for  us.  God 
must  be  at  least  as  loving  and  humane  as  we  are,  and  we  are 
morally  above  taking  such  delight.  Nor  could  modern  ethics 
regard  such  punishments  as  "eternal  justice"  in  view  of  present 
knowledge  of  the  evolution  of  moral  conceptions. 

Still  these  doctrines,  on  all  the  theories  of  personal  immor- 
tality that  we  have  been  considering,  are  not  without  signi- 
ficance. 

(1)  If  the  hypothesis  of  an  immortality  of  separate  souls 
be  accepted,  it  would  be  logical  to  suppose  that  each  soul  will 
begin  its  next  existence  in  circumstances  consequent  upon  its 
life  here.  The  inevitable  natural  consequences  of  right  doing 
here  will  afford  development  and  opportunity  in  the  next  life ; 
of  wrong  doing,  the  reverse.  In  the  vision  of  Er  in  Plato's 
Republic,  the  souls  are  free  to  select  their  own  careers  in  their 
next  lives  before  becoming  reincarnated.  No  God  punishes  or 
rewards  them  by  making  the  selection  for  them.  But  each  soul 
chooses  in  accordance  with  its  own  character;  it  is  attracted 
to  whatever  its  past  life  has  led  it  to  appreciate.  The  law  of 
karma  in  philosophical  Brahmanism  and  Buddhism  makes  one's 
next  existence,  whether  better  or  worse  than  the  present,  the 
just  and  inevitable  consummation  of  past  conduct.  And  John 
of  Patmos  was  told  by  the  angel,  "He  that  is  unrighteous,  let 
him  do  unrighteousness  still;  and  he  that  is  filthy,  let  him  be 
made  filthy  still :  and  he  that  is  righteous,  let  him  do  righteous- 
ness still:  and  he  that  is  holy,  let  him  be  made  holy  still,"  27. 
This  is  not  a  judicial  decree  handed  down  from  above;  it  is 
merely  a  natural  law  that  each  should  be  what  his  past  life  has 
made  him. 

Consider  the  case  of  two  students  now  in  college.     Suppose 


SALVATION  AND  DAMNATION  439 

that  one  of  them  does  faithful  work  in  his  studies  and  makes 
a  brilliant  record,  while  the  other  wastes  his  time  in  idleness 
or  dissipation,  or  allows  himself  to  become  so  absorbed  in 
athletics  or  other  student  activities  that  he  has  no  time  to  obtain 
a  real  education.  After  graduation,  the  faithful  student  will 
begin  the  next  stage  in  his  life  under  better  advantages,  and 
he  will  be  capable  of  larger  things  than  the  other  student, — 
supposing  of  course,  that  their  natural  abilities  were  approx- 
imately equal  when  they  entered  college.  And  this  is  no  judg- 
ment imposed  on  the  two  students  by  an  angry  God.  It  is  like 
the  choices  made  in  the  vision  of  Er,  or  the  law  of  karma,  or 
the  angel's  saying  in  the  last  chapter  of  Revelation.  Yet,  of 
course,  a  man  who  has  made  a  poor  record  in  college  may 
awaken  when  he  gets  out  into  the  world,  and  with  effort  he  can 
in  some  measure  retrieve  the  ground  he  has  lost.  He  is  not 
absolutely  condemned  to  mediocrity  for  the  rest  of  his  life  on 
account  of  the  mistakes  he  made  in  college,  though  he  will  prob- 
ably never  enjoy  the  culture  that  a  liberal  education  might  have 
afforded  him. 

This  is  not  in  conflict  with  acceptance  of  some  aspects,  at 
least  of  the  doctrine  of  atonement.  A  repentant  sinner  be- 
comes a  different  self  because  of  the  atoning  deed  of  his 
Saviour,  both  in  this  life  and  in  the  next.  He  is  truly  saved. 
But  for  this  to  take  place,  he  must  sincerely  repent  of  his 
wrong  doing,  and  voluntarily  make  the  atonement  his  very  own, 
and  so  be  converted. 

(2)  If  the  hypothesis  of  immortality  in  God  be  preferred, 
this,  too,  affords  a  meaning  to  the  notions  of  salvation  and 
damnation.  Who  desires  to  live  eternally  in  the  mind  of  God 
as  a  bad  memory,  as  an  evil  life  whose  wicked  deeds  had  some- 
how to  be  atoned  for  and  turned  into  good  by  the  sacrifice  and 
suffering  of  others?  What  more  horrible  damnation  could 
there  be  then  eternally  to  exist  in  the  mind  of  God  as  a  Nero, 
or  a  Judas  Iscariot  or  a  Benedict  Arnold !  Such  souls  in  a 
sense  would  be  forgiven — like  the  strident  notes  in  the  sym- 
phony, they  contribute  to  the  harmony  of  the  whole  —  they 
would  be  one  in  the  universal  Mind  with  the  heroes  and  saints 
and  martyrs,  but  how  utterly  different  the  roles  that  they  must 
forever  play  in  that  eternal  life ! 

VIII — The  Author's  Opinions  on  Salvation  and  Damnation 
If  a  selection  of  features  from  these  two  views  be  combined 


440  IMMORTALITY 

with  the  hypothesis  of  a  finite  God,  as  favored  by  the  author, 
the  conceptions  of  salvation  and  damnation  will  also  retain 
significance.  To  be  "in  Heaven"  may  mean  the  consciousness 
that  one's  life  on  earth  has  harmonized  with  the  general  plans 
of  God,  so  that  one  in  consequence  has  become  capable  of 
sharing  more  completely  in  an  understanding  and  apprecia- 
tion of  His  life  with  its  triumphs  and  sorrows.  To  be  "in 
Hell"  would  be  a  state  of  self-reproach  and  mortification  be- 
cause one  perceives  that  one's  earthly  life  has  through  one's 
own  fault  been  a  reverse  or  an  impediment  to  the  onward  pro- 
gress of  the  universe  that  God  is  seeking  to  effect,  which  has 
had  to  be  retrieved  and  made  good  by  others,  and  to  feel  one- 
self unworthy  and  incapable  of  entering  into  intimate  com- 
munion with  God  and  with  other  souls. 

To  be  "in  Purgatory"  might  mean  that  in  consequence  of 
one's  shame,  sorrow,  and  repentance  one  has  the  opportunity 
to  help  to  retrieve  one's  failures  in  some  way,  or  to  undo 
the  evils  that  have  come  to  the  world's  progress  through  one's 
own  fault.  One  would  thus  have  the  privilege  of  oneself  making 
good,  or  of  assisting  to  make  good,  the  consequence  of  one's 
wrong  doing,  instead  of  suffering  the  humiliation  of  helplessly 
witnessing  one's  failures  wholly  atoned  for  by  others.  Possibly 
the  soul  "in  Purgatory"  might  have  the  chance  to  become  again 
reincarnated  in  a  physical  body,  and  thus  be  given  another 
trial  in  a  life  led  under  bodily  conditions  in  which  to  prove 
himself  worthy  of  a  higher  state  of  existence  in  God. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  hoped  that  no  one  shall  forever  remain 
in  the  state  of  "Hell,"  but  through  repentance  ultimately  enter 
that  of  "Purgatory."  At  all  events  divine  justice  must  signify 
that  every  one  shall  ultimately  attain  to  as  high  a  place  in  the 
universe  as  he  can  fill.  Promotions  shall  strictly  be  upon  a  merit 
basis.  There  shall  be  no  retribution  for  past  misdeeds  except 
in  the  incapacity  for  higher  service  that  these  necessarily  cause, 
in  reforming  punishments  and  in  opportunities  to  make  good 
the  harm  caused  by  past  failures. 

IX — Conclusion 

The  solid  ground  on  the  subject  of  immortality  is  that  out- 
lined at  the  opening  of  the  chapter  under  the  caption  of  "Im- 
mortality as  a  Fact."  This  is  assured.  This  no  man  can  take 
from  us.  Faith  is  not  needed  to  believe  in  it.  It  affords  im- 
measurable solace  to  sorrowing  souls,  and  furnishes  a  powerful 
incentive  to  lives  of  service. 


CONCLUSION  441 

But  those  who  have  faith  and  imagination  can  venture  fur- 
ther, and  get  additional  comfort  and  inspiration  in  believing 
in  "Immortality  as  a  Postulate."  The  entire  consideration  of 
this  latter  has  been  highly  speculative  and  imaginative.  Dis- 
cussion of  such  matters  must  be  so,  if  it  is  to  be  fruitful  at  all. 
Those  who  forever  keep  their  eyes  on  the  ground  can  never  see 
the  stars.  Only  a  daringly  speculative  philosophy  that  does  not 
hesitate  to  employ  analogies,  where  there  are  few  facts  on  which 
to  reason,  can  suggest  the  possibilities  open  to  us  if  we  accept 
seme  type  of  personal  immortality  as  a  postulate. 

Every  man  who  chooses  to  believe  in  immortality  as  a  postu- 
late should  accept  whatever  view  of  it  can  meet  these  three  tests : 
(1)  strict  accordance  with  the  facts  known  to  science  that  in 
any  way  bear  upon  the  subject;  (2)  satisfaction  of  the  impli- 
cations of  a  universe  that  is  at  least  partially  teleological  and 
moral;  (3)  logical  consistency  with  his  other  philosophical  be- 
liefs. Let  everyone  accept  and  be  guided  in  his  life  by  what- 
ever conceptions  of  immortality,  after  candid  and  thoughtful 
reflection,  seem  to  him  most  fully  to  meet  these  tests.  And, 
whatever  may  be  his  conclusions,  in  detail,  he  will  decide  that, 
in  an  ultimate  sense,  the  Socrates  of  Plato's  Apology  is  right 
in  affirming  that  "no  evil  can  happen  to  a  good  man,  either 
in  life  or  after  death." 

REFERENCES 

*  WILLIAM  JAMES,  Human  Immortality. 

*LOWES  DICKINSON,  Is  Immortality  Desirable? 

*Huoo  MUNSTERBERG,  The  Eternal  Life. 

*JOHN  FISKE,  Life  Everlasting. 

*G.  T.  FECHNER,  Life  After  Death. 

*B.  H.  STREETER,  et  al.,  Concerning  Immortality. 

MAMES  BISSETT  PRATT,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  Chapter  XI. 

MOSIAII  ROYCE,  The  Conception  of  Immortality. 

*E.  C.  WILM,  The  Problem  of  Religion,  Chap.  VI. 

*DURANT  DRAKE,  Problems  of  Religion,  Chap.  XXIV. 

PLATO,  Phaedo. 

IMMANTJEL  KANT,  Critique  of  Practical  Reason. 

Other  technical  references  will  be  found  in  NOTES  to  the  Chapter. 


NOTES 

CHAPTER  II 

1.  For  those  who  wish  to  begin  their  study  with  these  lowliest  races, 
presumably  most  like   primitive   man,   the  author  would   suggest   starting 
with  Wilhelm  Wundt,  Elements  of  Folk  Psychology   (trans.)   chap.  I;  and 
W.  J.  Sollas,  Ancient  Head  Hunters  and  Their  Modern  Representatives. 

2.  £.  Durkheim,  Elementary  Forms  of  the  Religious  Life   (trans.)  pp. 
91,  f. 

3.  Baldwin  Spencer  and  F.  J.  Gillen,   The  Native   Tribes  of  Central 
Australia,  p.  18. 

4.  Idem,  p.  25. 

5.  Idem,  p.  223. 

6.  Idem,  pp.  271,  f. 

7.  A  good  summary  of  the  various  facts  and  theories  of  totemism  will 
be  found  in  Professor  Crawford  Howell  Toy's  Introduction  to  the  History 
of  Religions,  chap.  V.    The  best  theoretical  discussion  is  probably  that  by 
Professor  LeVy-Bruhl,  Fonctions  mcntales  dans  les  races  infSrieures,  which 
is  largely  based  upon  Australian  totemism. 

8.  Spencer  and  Gillen,  The  Northern  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,  p.  326. 

9.  Spencer  and  Gillen,  The  Native  Tribes  of  Central  Australia,  p.  11. 

10.  fi.  Durkheim,  Op.  cit.,  Book  II,  Chapters  VI,  VII. 

11.  This  is  probably  too  dimly  conceived   for  the  question  to  occur  to 
the  native  whether  one  or  many  such  forces  are  operative  in  the  different 
ceremonies.     The  whole  conception  is  too  hazy  for  him  to  have  numerical 
or  other  clearly  defined  attributes. 

12.  Spencer   and   Gillen,   The   Native    Tribes   of   Central  Australia,  pp. 
l?4-lf?6;  265,  337,  f. 

13.  Dr.  R.  R.  Marett,   (The  Threshold  of  Religion,  chap.  VI)   advances 
the  interesting  theory  that  gods,  when  they  do  appear,   are  an  evolution 
from  the   'bull-roarer.'     This   appears   too   simple   to  serve   as   a   complete 
explanation  of  the  origin  of  deities;  but  it  may  indicate  one  of  the  factors 
operative  in  this  evolution. 

14.  A.  W.  Howitt,  The  Native  Tribes  of  South-East  Australia,  pp.  500, 
f;  506,  f. 

15.  Idem,  pp.  741,  f. 

16.  Spencer  and  Gillen,  idem,  pp.  280,  f. 

17.  B.    Malinowski,.    "The    Economic    Aspect    of    the    Intichiuma    Cere- 
monies,"  (published  in  English  in  the  Festskrift  tilhgnad  Edvard  Wester- 
marck,  Helsingfors,  1912)  pp.  81-108. 

CHAPTER  III 

1.  W.  H.  R.  Rivers,  The  Todas. 

2.  Irving  King,  The   Development  of  Religion,  pp.   238,  241. 

3.  Professor  L.  Le"vy-Bruhl    (Les  fonctions  mentales  dans  les  societes 
inferic.urcs)   certainly  has  at  least  shown  that  savages  do  not  employ  log- 
ical categories  as  effectively  as  we  do,  though  he  may  have  overstated  his 
thesis,    cf.  W.  K.  Wright,  "The  Genesis  of  the  Categories"  in  The  Journal 
of  Philosophy,  Psychology  and  Scientific  Methods,  vol.  X  (1913)  pp.  645-657. 

4.  R.  H.  Codrington,  The  Melanesians,  pp.  118,  ff. 
&.    Idem,  pp.  125,  f. 

•143 


CHAPTERS  II-V  443 

6.     These  have  been  taken    from   the  numerou*   illu*trations   givtn  by 
Dr.  Marett  (The  Threshold  of  Religion)  and  Pr»f«M»r  Kinj  (tp.  fit.) 
1.     R.  R.  Marett,  op.  cit.,  p.  119. 
S.     See  p.  14  above. 

CHAPTER  IV 

1.  John  Roscoe,  The  Baganda,  an  account  of  their  native  cuitotm  and 
beliefs.     London,  1911.     For  those  who  would   like  to  compare  with  the 
Baganda  another  savage   people   whose   religion   has   reached   a   somewhat 
comparable  stage  of  development,  and  has  also  been  reported  with  scien- 
tific  accuracy,   the   author   recommends    The   Pagan   Tribes   of  Borneo   by 
Charles  Hose  and  William  McDougall,  London,  1912. 

2.  Roscoe,  op.  cit.  p.  27$. 

3.  Idem,  p.  283. 

4.  Ibid,  p.  284. 

5.  Idem,  p.  338. 

6.  Idem,  p.  344. 

7.  William  McDougall,  Social  Psychology,  pp.  288-293. 

CHAPTER  V 

1.  Cf.  my  paper,  "The  Relation  of  the  Psychology  of  Religion  to  the 
Philosophy    of    Religion,"    Philosophical    Review,    XXVII,    especially    pp. 
141-143,  giving  criticisms  of  Professor  Ames,  Professor  Coe  and  Professor 
Watson  in  this  connection.     A  similar  position  to  mine  is  held  by  Profes- 
sor J.  B.  Pratt,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  Chapter  I.     A  fuller  explana- 
tion of  the  expression   ""socially  recognized"  will  be   found  in  my  paper, 
"A   Psychological  Definition  of  Religion,"  American  Journal  of  Theology, 
XVI,  pp.  389  ff,  where  are  indicated  the  reasons  for  its  choice  rather  than 
the  more  vague  wsorirl  values."     This  is  in  order  to  allow  full  recognition 
to  the  contributions  of  such  writers  as  W.  Robertson  Smith,  Irving  King, 
C.   H.   Cooley,  and  J.  Mark  Baldwin,  on  the  one  hand,  and  at  the  same 
time  to   guard   against  "the   exaggeration   of  the  social"   which   Professor 
Warner  Fite  has  exposed  in  a  paper  of  that  title   (Journal  of  Philosophy, 
IV,  393,  ff,  as  well  as  in  his  Individualism). 

2.  Cf.     A.  O.  Lovejoy,  "The  Desires  of  the  Self-Conscious,"  Journal 
of  Philosophy,  etc.,  IV,  pp.  29-39. 

3.  G.    A.    Coe,   "Religious   Value,"   Journal   of   Philosophy,   etc.,   1908, 
p.  253. 

4.  J.    H.    Leuba,     "The    Contents    of    the    Religious    Consciousness," 
Monist,  XI,  pp.  536-573. 

5.  J.   G.    Frazer,   Golden   Bough,   vol.    I,   pp.    139-166,   gives   numerous 
instances. 

6.  This   definition  was  originally   set   forth   in   an  article  published  in 
the  American  Journal  of  Theology ,' vol.  XVI   (1912),  pp.  385-409.     It  was 
immediately  criticized  by   Professor  James   H.   Leuba   (same  journal  and 
volume,  pp.  643-645).     I  trust  that  in  the  present  chapter  I  have  removed 
the  ambiguities  that  provoked  two  of  Professor  Leuba's  criticisms.     With- 
in "conservation"  of  values,  I  include  the  quantitative  increase  of  values. 
The  "feeling  of  dependence"   upon  the  agency  excludes  dependence   upon 
forces   believed   to   be   merely  physical   and  mechanical.      I   claim  to  have 
succeeded   in  showing  the   difference  and   the   relationship   between   magic 
and  religion,  though  here  my  position  is  different  from,  that  of  Professor 
Leuba. 

I  admit  that  many  of  Professor  A.  C.  Watson's  criticisms  of  my 
definition  ("The  Logic  of  Religion,"  American  Journal  of  Theology,  vol. 
XX,  1916,  pp.  92-95;  244-248)  are  justified.  But  I  cannot  see  that  he  hae 
improved  matters  with  his  definition  of  religion  as  "a  social  attitude 


444.  NOTES 

toward  the  non-human  environment."  (1)  He  fails  to  make  any  clear- 
cut  distinction,  or  statement  of  relationship,  between  the  religious  and 
certain  other  social  attitudes  toward  the  non-human  environment,  such  as 
the  aesthetic.  (2)  His  definition  is  needlessly  abstract  in  failing  to  state 
the  end  of  religion — which  I  claim  to  be  the  conservation  of  socially 
recognized  values.  In  this  respect  he  is  even  farther  from  the  "concrete 
Universal"  than  I.  (3)  He  does  not  bring  out  the  fact  that  the  values 
of  religion  often  are  more  concerned  with  the  adjustment  of  individuals 
to  one  another  than  to  their  non-human  environment.  However,  Professor 
Watson's  attempt  to  define  religion  is  one  of  the  best  that  has  been  made 
in  recent  years. 

Professor  G.  A.  Coe  (Psychology  of  Religion,  pp.  62,  f.)  criticizes 
my  definition  on  two  grounds.  (1)  It  limits  the  values  involved  in  relig- 
ious consciousness  to  those  already  socially  recognized;  this  does  not  allow 
for  the  work  of  the  prophet,  who  dissents  from  socially  recognized  values 
and  makes  appeal  to  what  he  regards  as  a  higher  standard.  In  reply  I 
would  say  that  the  Hebrew  prophets,  whom  I  suppose  he  has  chiefly  in 
mind,  were  endeavoring  to  secure  the  conservation  of  values  already  rec- 
ognized (if  not  acted  upon)  by  groups  within  the  nation,  and  that  the 
prophets  believed  to  be  values  for  which  Yahweh  and  his  religion  in  its 
pristine  purity  had  stood.  I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  the  "socially 
recognized"  values  of  religion  are  always  dominant  in  the  practises  of  a 
nation — I  fear  that  they  rarely  are — but  only  that  they  are  socially  recog- 
nized by  groups,  perhaps  minority  groups,  as  morally  right  and  desirable. 
Moreover,  the  Hebrew  case  is  exceptional.  In  our  time,  nobody  surely 
hopes  for  the  promotion  of  novel  social  movements  by  the  churches  and 
synagogues;  all  we  expect  of  them  is  that  they  will  instil  loyalty  to  the 
moral  principles  of  our  fathers,  and  ultimately  give  their  support  to  such 
proposed  reforms  as  shall  previously  have  stood  the  fire  of  criticism,  and 
made  considerable  headway.  There  almost  always  are  people  in  secular 
life  far  better  qualified  to  initiate  a  novel  social  movement  than  a  clergy- 
man or  other  primarily  religious  worker. 

(2)  Professor  Coe  objects  to  my  finding  the  differentia  of  religion 
in  the  means  whereby  certain  ends  are  sought,  and  not  in  the  ends  them- 
selves. This  is  true.  But  I  claim  that  it  is  impossible  otherwise  to  find 
a  differentia  for  religion.  Professor  Coe  himself  admits  that  religion  does 
not  introduce  any  new  value  (p.  70).  He  believes  that  it  is  "an  opera- 
tion upon  or  within  all  our  appreciations"  (ibid.)  ;  "an  immanent  move- 
ment within  our  valuations"  (p.  72).  Well,  so  it  is.  But  so  is  Ethical 
Culture.  The  logical  conclusion  from  Professor  Coe's  conception  would 
be,  that  all  attempts  at  moral  or  social  synthesis  are  religious.  But  i'f  I 
follow  him,  Professor  Coe  means  to  limit  religion  (after  it  has  become 
differentiated  and  passed  beyond  its  primordial  beginnings)  to  those  at- 
tempts at  synthesis  that  imply  faith  in  some  kind  of  a  divine  order.  Well, 
then,  why  does  he  not  say  so,  and  make  this  faith  the  differentia  of 
religion? 

7.  Mary  H.  Kingsley,  West  African  Studies. 

8.  A.  G.  Leonard,  The  Lower  Niger  and  Its  Tribes. 

9.  J.  H.  Leuba,  The  Psychological  Origin  and  Nature  of  Religion.     .4 
Psychological  Study  of  Religion,  pp.  4-7;  57-69. 

10.  These   illustrations   have   mostly   been   borrowed    from   L.    T.    Hob- 
hovse,  Morals  in  Evolution.     Part  II,  chapter  I. 

11.  In  this  explanation,  as  well  as   for  the  illustrations,  the  author   is 
largely  indebted  to  Irving  King,  The  Development  of  Religion,  pp.  179,  ff. 

12.  W.  G.  Sumner,  Folkways,  p.  25. 

13.  W.  Robertson  Smith,  Religion  of  the  Semites,  2d.  ed.,  p.  59. 


CHAPTERS  V-VIII  445 

14.  This  distinction  between  mediate  and  immediate  interest  is  stated 
by  Professor  John  Dewey,  Interest  as  Related  to  Will,  pp.  15,  if.   (Chicago 
University  Press,  1903). 

15.  Op.  cit.  cf.  note  6,  above. 

16.  C.    E.    Seashore,    "The    Play    Impulse    and    Attitude   in    Religion," 
American  Journal  of  Theology,  April,  1910. 

17.  Chapter  XIV,  section  VI,  pp.  229,  230. 

CHAPTER  VI 

1.  E.  S.  Ames,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  117. 

2.  LeVy-Bruhl,  Les  fonctions  mentales    dans    les    socie'te's     infe"rieures, 
Chapter  II,  and  passim. 

3.  Spencer  and  Gillen,  The  Natives  of  Central  Australia,  p.  338. 

4.  Idem,  see  Index  under  Iruntarinia. 

5.  James  B.   Pratt,   The  Religions  Consciousness,  p.  312. 

6.  J.  G.  Frazer,  The  Golden  Bough,  2d.  ed.,  vol.  I,  p.  156. 

7.  Chapter  IV  of  this  book  (page* 32). 

8.  The    account    in    this    section    in    some    respects    follows    Professor 
James  H.  Leuba's  A  Psychological  Study  of  Religion,  Chapters  IV-VI,  to 
which  the  reader  is  referred. 

9.  J.  G.  Frazer,  op.  cit.,  p.  64. 

10.  Idem,  p.  68. 

11.  Jane  Ellen  Harrison,  Prolegomena  to  the  Study  of  Greek  Religion, 
p.  3. 

12.  This  section  is  chiefly  indebted  to  Professor  L.  R.  FarnelPs  "The 
Evolution  of  Prayer"  in  his  Evolution  of  Religion,  from  which  most  of  the 
illustrations  are  taken. 

13.  Tylor,  Primitive  Culture,  vol.  II,  p.  331. 

14.  Charles  A.  Eastman,  The  Soul  of  an  Indian,  pp.  6-8;  cf.  pp.  45-47. 

CHAPTER  VII 

1.  The  dates  given  in  this  chapter  are  quite  arbitrary.     The  authori- 
ties differ  widely.     If  the  reader  will  fix  in  his  mind  the  order  in  which 
the  periods  came,  that  is  all  that  matters  for  the  purposes  of  this  book. 

2.  Edward   Washburn    Hopkins,   The  Religions   of  India,  p.   179;   cf. 
Sata-patha-Brdhmana,  ii  2,   2,  6;   4,  3,   14.      (Sacred  Books   of   the  East, 
vol.  XII,  pp.  309,  f;  374). 

3.  Sata-pataha-Brdhmana,  II,  2,  2,  8-14    (Sacred  Books   of  the  East, 
vol.  XII,  p.  310). 

4.  E.  W.  Hopkins,  op.  cit.,  p.  180. 

5.  Brihadaranyaka — Upanishad,  IV,  4,  6.     Quoted   from  George  Foot 
Moore,  History  of  Religions,  vol.  I,  p.  276. 

6.  Paul  Deussen,  Philosophy  of  the  Upanishads  (trans.)   p.  49. 

7.  L.  T.  Hobhouse,  Morals  in  Evolution,  3d.  ed.,  p.  474. 

8.  James  Bissett  Pratt,  India  and  Its  Faiths,  pp.  14,  16,  56  f;  66,  176, 
and  passim. 

CHAPTER  VIII 

1.  See  page  79  above. 

2.  T.  W.  Rhys  Davids,  Lectures  on  the  Origin  and  Growth  of  Relig- 
ion as  Illustrated  in  Some  Points  in  the  History  of  Indian  Buddhism,  p.  31. 

3.  In  the  Treatise  of  Human  Nature. 

4.  Dhammapada,  p.  92,  sees.  396,  399,  406,  407,  cited  from  Hobhouse, 
Morals  in  Evolution,  3d.  ed.,  p.  485. 

5.  Tevigga  Sutta,  in  Buddhist  Suttas  translated  by  Rhys  Davids,  p.  201. 

6.  Proceedings   of   the    World's   Parliament   of  Religions,  vol.    II,   pp. 
876,  f.    (Held  m  Chicago  in  1893). 

7.  Paul  Dahlke,  Buddhist  Essays,   (Eng.  trans.)   p.  343.     This  author 


NOTES 

says  that  Burman  laymen  are  beginning  to  start  schools  and  to  engage 
in  other  forms  of  missionary  effort,  in  the  endeavor  to  preserve  their  an- 
cestral faith  from  the  encroachments  of  Christianity. 

8.  "Then  again  all  beings,  O  Sariputra,  ought  to  make  fervent  prayer 
for  that  Buddha  country.     And  why?     Because  they  come  together  there 
v.'i'th   such   excellent   men.     Beings   are   not  born   in   that   Buddha  country 
of  the   TathSgata  Amitayus    [i.   e.,   Amida]    as  a   reward  of  good  works 
performed  in  this  present  life.     No,  whatever  son  or  daughter  of  a  family 
shall  hear  the  name  of  the  blessed   Amitayus,  the  Tathagata,  and  having 
heard  it,  shall  keep  it  in  mind,  and  with  thoughts  undisturbed  shall  keep 
it  In  mind  for  one,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six  or  seven  nights, — when  that 
son   or  daughter  comes   to  die,   then  that   Amitayus,   the   Tathagata,   sur- 
rounded by  an  assembly  of  disciples  and  followed  by  a  host  of  Bodhisat- 
tvas,  will  stand  before  them  at  the  hour  of  death,  and  they  will  depart  this 
life  with  tranquil  minds.     After  their  death  they  will  be  born  in  the  world 
of  the  same  Amitayus,  the  Tath&gata."     (The  Smaller  Sukhdvati— vyuha, 
§   10,  in  Sacred  Books   of  the  East,  vol.   XLIX).     As  Sanskrit  originals 
have   been   found,   the   Amida   conception   must  have  originated   in   India, 
though   its    Protestant-like    form   may   be    a   later   Chinese    and    Japanese 
development. 

9.  G.  F.  Moore, — History  of  Religions,  vol.  I,  pp.  140,  141. 

10.     Fifty  Years  of  New  Japan,  edited  by  Count  Okuma,  vol.  II,  p.  75. 

CHAPTER  IX 

1.  L.  R.  Farnell,  The  Higher  Aspects  of  Greek  Religion,  p.  33. 

2.  Arthur  Fairbanks,  A  Handbook  of  Greek  Religion,  pp.  120,  ff. 

3.  De  Coulanges,  The  Ancient  City  (trans.)  p.  44.    A  longer  quotation 
appears  on  page  259  of  this  book. 

4.  W.  Warde  Fowler,  The  Religious  Experience  of  the  Roman  People, 
chapter  IV. 

5.  L.  R.  Farnell,  op.  cit.,  pp.  56,  f. 

6.  G.  Stanley  Hall,  Adolescence,  vol.  II,  pp.  251-259. 

7.  L.  R.  Farnell,  op.  cit.,  p.  65. 

8.  Idem,  p.  69. 

9.  Jane  Ellen  Harrison,  Prolegomena  to  the  Study  of  Greek  Religion. 

10.  C.  H.  Moore,  Religious'  Thought  of  the  Greeks,  pp.  27,  f. 

11.  Gilbert  Murray,  Four  Stages  of  Greek  Religion,  p.  80,  and  passim. 

CHAPTER  X 

1.  Spinosa,   the   greatest   philosopher   of   Jewish   race,  cannot   on   the 
religious  side  be  reckoned  a  Jew.     He  contributed  nothing  to  the  religion, 
to  which  he  early  became  an  apostate.     For  an  interesting  account  of  the 
philosophy  of  Maimonides,  see  Professor  Isaac  Husik's  History  of  Med- 
ieval Jewish  Philosophy;  for  his  place  in  the  development  of  Jewish  the- 
ology,  see  Dr.   K.    Kohler,  Jewish   Theology,  pp.   22-27,  307-309,  386-388 
and  passim, 

2.  Joshua  VII. 

3.  Exodus  XX,  5. 

4.  Numbers  XIV,  11-20. 

5.  Judges  IV  3,  17-22,  V  24-27. 

6.  II  Samuel  XXIV  1,  15-17.     According  to  the  book  of  I  Chronicles 
(written  later)  it  is  Satan  who  prompts  David  to  take  the  census  (XXI,  1). 

7.  Genesis  III,  8. 

8.  Genesis  VIII,  20-22. 

9.  Genesis  XVIII  1-8. 
10.    Amos  II,  6. 


CHAPTERS  VIII-XI  447 

11.  Amos  IV,  1. 

13.  Hosea  IV,  1,  f. 
18.  Micah  II. 

14.  Isaiah  III,  XXVIII. 

15.  Jeremiah  XIX  5;  XXXII  35;  I  Kings  XIV  24;  XV  12.    II  Kings 
XXIII   7.     Exodus  XXII  28;   Ezekiel  XX  25.   cf.   H.  P.  Smith,   The  Re- 
ligion of  Israel,  pp.  70-72;  87-89.    The  denunciations  are  found  constantly. 
Cf.  Amos  V  21;  Hosea  X  1;  Isaiah  I  11,  12. 

16.  Amos   V,   14,   24.     Here,  and  in  other   cases   where   the   quotations 
differ   from  the   American   Revised   Version,  they   are   taken   from   H.    P. 
Smith,  Religion  of  Israel,  whose  account  has  largely  been  followed  here. 

17.  Micah  VI  8. 

18.  Isaiah  I  16,  f. 

19.  This  evolution  was  probably  not  complete  prior  to  the  exile,  but  the 
tendency  had  long  previously  been  in  that  direction. 

20.  Jeremiah  XXXI  29,  30.     Ezekiel  XVIII. 

21.  E.   g.,   XXIII,  XXVII,  XXVIII,     XXXIV,     XL,   XLVI,   LXIII, 
XCI,  etc. 

22.  Ezekiel  XXIII,  1-9. 

23.  Ezekiel  XXXVI  20-28. 

24.  Deuteronomy  VI,  4-9. 

25.  The  "ten  commandments"  in  the  version  of  Exodus  XX. 

26.  E.  g.,  Psalms  CXIX;  XIX,  7-11;  XXXVII,  31;  LXXVIII;  XCIV, 
21;  CV,  45.     Cf.  the  works  of  Kohler,  Joseph,  and  Levine  in  the  list   of 
References  to  this  chapter. 

27.  Haggai  II  20-23.     Zechariah  VI,  9-15;  cf.  IV,  1-10. 

28.  Chapters  XXX  and  XXXI. 

29.  Micah  V,  1-3. 

30.  Cf.  Isaiah  IV,  2-5;  XI,  1-10;  XXXII,    1.    f;   XXXIII    17,  21. 

31.  Chapters  XL-LXVI. 

32.  Isaiah  XLIX,  6. 

33.  See  Chapter  XV,  section  VII. 

CHAPTER  XI 

1.  The  chief  exceptions  are  Arthur  Drews  (Christusmythe,  Hat  Jesus 
gelebt?    Witnesses   to   the   Historicity   of  Jesus)    and  William    Benjamin 
Smith    (Der  vorchristliche  Jesus,  Ecce  Homo    (Eng.   trans.)      For  a  dis- 
cussion  and   refutation  of  these   radicals,   cf.   Shirley  Jackson   Case,   The 
Historicity  of  Jesus. 

2.  Zechariah  IX,  9. 

3.  The  Gospel  accounts  show  that  Jesus  did  not  incite  his  followers 
to  military  rebellion,  and  that  his  whole  attitude  was  one  of  passive  non- 
resistance.     "Blasphemy"    against    the    Jewish    religion    was    not    treason 
against  Roman  law.     The  claim  to  be   the  Messiah   in  a  purely  spiritual 
sense,  could  hardly  have  been  seriously  objectionable  from  a  Roman  point 
of    view.      However,    if   this    claim    implied    that    the    followers    of    Jesus 
though   meek   and   non-resistant,   were   privately   confident   that   sooner   or 
later,  and  perhaps  very  soon,  Yahweh  would  miraculously   overthrow  the 
Roman   government   and   establish   their   Master   on   the   throne   of   David, 
one  can  see  that  Romans  might  regard  the  claim  as  treasonable,  and  be- 
lieve that  the  movement,  if  not  at  once  crushed,  would  develop  into  an- 
other fanatical  uprising.     Professor  Richard  W.   Husband    (The  Prosecu- 
tion of  Jesus)  believes  that  the  trial  of  Jesus  was   regular,  according  to 
Roman  law,  that   Pilate   was  obliged   to   find  Jesus   technically   guilty   of 
treason  as  legally  denned,  and  so  to  condemn  him  when  the  Jewish  council 
insisted  on  prosecuting  him.     Not  believing  Jesus  guilty  except  in  a  pure- 


448  NOTES 

ly  technical  sense,  Pilate  in  vain  tried  to  persuade  the  Jewish  leaders  not 
to  push  their  prosecution  of  Jesus. 

4.  Matthew  I.     Luke  I-III.     Two  ingenious  attempts  to  reconcile  the 
two   different   genealogies   with   orthodox   claims   have   been   made   by   the 
Reverend  William  H.  Bates,  D.  D.,  "A  Study  in  the  Genealogy  of  Jesus,'' 
Bibliotheca  Sacra,  vol.  LXXIV   (1917)   pp.  321-329,  and  the  Reverend  H. 
W.  Magoun,  "The  Two  Genealogies  of  Jesus,"  Bibliotheca  Sacra,  LXXII 
(1915)  pp.  34-48. 

5.  See  Chapter  X,  pp.  143-146. 

6.  Acts   IX,  1-30;   I  Corinthians  XV,  8-10. 

7.  Gal.  II,  20;  Phil.  I,  21;  Gal.  VI,  17  cf.  II.  Cor.  IV,  10,  16;  Rom. 
VIII,  2. 

8.  Gal.  IV,  19;  Eph.  Ill,  14-19. 

9.  Acts  XV,  1-29.    The  entire  epistle  to  the  Galatians  powerfully  sets 
forth  the  Pauline  position  on  this  subject. 

10.  Contrast  I  Thess.  IV,  13— V.  11  and  II  Thess.  I,  4-12  with  Romans 
VIII,  18-25;  XIII,  11,  f;  I  Cor.  IV,  5;  VI,  2,  3;  VII  29-31,  and  yet  more, 
with  Eph.  II,  7;  Phil.  I,  21-24;  II  Tim.  IV,  6-8.     (The  order  in  which  the 
epistles  were  written  was  probably  about  as  follows:     The  earliest  were  I 
and   II   Thessalonians.     To  the  middle  of  Paul's  career  belong  Galatians, 
I  and  II  Corinthians,  and  Romans.     Among  his  last  epistles  are  Phillip- 
ians,  Ephesians,  and  Philemon.     If  I  and  II  Timothy,  Titus  and  Colossians 
were  written  by   Paul  himself,  they  are   also   late;   at  any  rate  they   are 
Pauline.    The  epistle  to  the  Hebrews  was  not  written  by  Paul,  and  is  not 
Pauline). 

11.  Acts  XV,  1-29. 

12.  Matthew  XVI,  18,  19;  John  XXI,  15-17.     In  addition  to  these  pas- 
sages, Roman  Catholic  writers  make  much  of  the  fact  that  Peter's  name 
is  always  mentioned  first  in  the  lists  of  apostles  (Matt.  X,  2;  Mark  III,  16; 
Luke   VI,  14;   Acts   I,   13);   that  he  was  the  first  of  them  to  perform   a 
miracle  (Acts  III)  ;  the  first  to  make  Gentile  converts  (Acts  X),  and  that 
when  he  decided  what  should  be  done  the  other  apostles  concurred   (Acts 
I,  15-26  and  XV,  1-30).     Protestants  think  that  these  passages  at  most  in- 
dicate that  Peter  was  the  leader  of  the  group,  not  their  ruler;  and  that 
James,  the  brother  (Matt.  XIII,  55)  of  Jesus,  rather  than  Peter,  made  the 
decision  in  Acts  XV,  and  appeared  in  the  role  of  the  head  of  the  church 
so  far  as  there  was  one.     The  next  step  in  the  Roman  Catholic  argument 
is  to  establish  that  Peter  was  the  first  bishop  of  Rome.     "Babylon"  from 
which   I   Peter  was  written    (V,  13)    is  interpreted  by  them  to  refer  to 
Rome,  and  John  XXI,  18,  19,  to  Peter's  martyrdom;  there.     "Clement,  the 
fourth  Bishop  of  Rome,  who  is  mentioned  in  terms  of  praise  by  St.  Paul, 
St.   Ignatius,  Bishop  of  Antioch,  who   died   in   105;   Irenaeus,  Origen,  St. 
Jerome,  Eusebi'us,  the  great  historian,  and  other  eminent  writers,  testify 
to  St.  Peter's  residence  in  Rome;  while  no  ancient  ecclesiastical  writer  has 
ever  contradicted  the  statement,"  says  Cardinal  Gibbons  (The  Faith  of  the 
Fathers,  p.  131).     Protestants  observe  that  this  evidence  is  slender,  and  at 
best,  scarcely  goes  back  of  the  second  century.     Modern  critical  historians 
think  of  Peter  rather  as  a  Palestinian  Jewish  Christian  than  as  the  founder 
of  a  Christian  church  in  the  capital  of  the  Gentile  world;  they  do  not  see 
how  he  could  have  been  in  Rome  while  Paul  was  writing  his  epistles  from 
there;  but  they  admit  the  possibility  that  he  may  have  been  there  a  short 
time  and  met  with  martyrdom  under  Nero. 

13.  Throughout  the  history  of  the  church,  the  book  of  Revelation  has 
been  most  often  questioned.    Its  place  in  the  canon  has  certainly  led  to  the 
unfortunate  result  that  visionaries  have  kept  looking  for  the  imminent  ar- 
rival of  the  end  of  the  world.    Jude  has  also  been  questioned;  it  has  seemed 
to  some  not  very  Christlike  in  its  attitude  to  Christians  with  different  the- 


CHAPTERS  XI-XIII  449 

ological  beliefs  from,  its  author.  James  and  II  Peter  have  often  b««n 
questioned  in  both  ancient  and  modern  times.  Some  of  the  ancients  wiihed 
to  include  the  Shepherd  of  Hermas  and  the  Apocalypse  of  Peter  in  the 
canon.  The  epistles  of  Clement,  Igiiatius,  and  Barnabas  were  written 
early  in  the  second  century,  and  the  (Sources  of  the  Didache  may  belong 
to  the  first  century.  These  non-canonical  books  are  all  now  readily  acces- 
sible both  in  Greek  and  English,  in  the  Apostolic  Fathers  in  the  Lo«b 
Classical  Library. 

14.  I  Cor.  XI,  17-34. 

15.  James  Henry  Newman,  Development  of  Christian  Doctrine,  p.  381. 

16.  W.   Windelband,   History   of  Philosophy,  tr.  by  J.   H.   Tufts,  Part 
III,  No.  22.     The  mysticism  of  St.  Augustine  will  be  indicated  in  Chapter 
XVII. 

17.  See  Windelband,  op.  cit.  p.  391.    Cf.  p.  186  below. 

18.  See  Chapter  XVII,  section  III. 


1.  Comparisons  of  this  sort  are  frequently  made  by  American  Roman 
Catholic  apologists. 

2.  John  M!  Mecklin,  An  Introduction  to  Social  Ethics. 

3.  The    name   Anabaptists    ("rebaptizers")    was    attached   to  them   by 
their   opponents   because,   not   believing   in   infant   baptism,   they   required 
persons   who   had   been   baptised   in   infancy    in   other   communions   to   be 
baptised  again  on  uniting  with  their  churches. 

4.  After  due  al  owance  has  been  made  for  the  fact  that  the  word  "en- 
thusiasm" has  changed  somewhat  in  significance  since  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury  (see  Murray's  and  the  Century  dictionaries),  my  statement  remains 
well  within  the  truth.    Cf.  J.  H.  Overton,  A  History  of  the  English  Church. 
From  the  Accession-  cf  George  I  to  the  End  of  the  Eighteenth  Century. 
Index,  under  "enthusiasm." 

5.  The  great  authorities  for  the  period  are  W.  E.  H.  Lecky's  History 
of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century   and   Leslie   Stephen's   History   of 
English   Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century.     Cf.   Canon  J.   H.   Oflerton, 
op.   cit.     A   concise   summary   of  the   spirit   of  the  age  will  be   found   in 
James  H.  Tufts'  The  Individual  and  His  Relation  to  Society  as  Reflected 
in  the  British  Ethics  of  the*  Eighte>enth  Century,  pages  1-5. 

6.  Cf.  E.  Hershey  Sneath,  The  Mind  of  Tennyson. 

7.  Browning  never  understood  philosophy  thoroughly.     That,  I  believe, 
is  one  cause  of  his  obscurity  of  expression,  which  is  even  more  pronounced 
than  usual  when  philosophical  thought  isi  implied  in  his  poetry.     However, 
the  point  of  view  of  short  poems  like  Abt  Vogler  and  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra  is 
unmistakably  that  of  Hegelian  or  Neo-Hegelian  absolute  idealism.     I  think 
that  this  is  also  true  of  Sordello;  but  who  can  be  sure  what  this   poem 
means?    The  Ring  and  the  Book  i's  neo-Hegelian  in  spirit;  the  truth  is  the 
whole,  and  can  only  be  arrived  at  by  considering  the  situation  successively 
in  all  of  its  aspects,  which   complement,   supplement,   and  interpenetrate, 
and  are  aufgehohen  as  the  poem  proceeds.     Cf.  Sir  Henry  Jones,  Browning 
as  a  Philosophical  and  Religious  Teacher. 

8.  W.  J.  Tucker,  et  al.,    Progressive   Orthodoxy;    W.  J.  Tucker,  My 
Generation. 

CHAPTER  XIII 

1.  Cf.  T.  R.  Glover,  Conflict  of  Religions  in  the  Roman  Empire,  pp. 
118,  f.;  The  Jesus  of  History,  pp.  47-50;  55,  f. 

2.  Cf.  E.  S.  Ames,  The  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.   188- 
190. 

3.  Professor   Hobhouse   points   out   that   this   emphasis   on    an   ethical 


450  NOTES 

change  of  heart  1's  common  to  both  Buddhism  and  Christianity,  Morals  in 
Evolution,  third  edition,  pp.  484,  515. 

4.  Colossians,  II,  6. 

5.  Galatians  IV,  9;  Romans  VIII,  9-11;  Ephesians,  III,  17-19;  I  Cor- 
inthians VI,  17. 

6.  John  III,  7. 

7.  John  IV,  14. 

8.  John  XV,  1,  4,  9'. 

9.  John  XVII,  21,  23;  cf.  I,  John  II,  5,  6,  28;  V.  20. 

10.  Paul  teaches  the  subjection  of  women  in  such  passages  as  Ephesians 
V,  22-33.     Other  passages  in  the  New  Testament  dealing  with  marriage, 
divorce,  the  position  of  women,  and  the  respective  merits  of  marriage  and 
celibacy  are:    Matthew  V,  31,  f;  X  35-37;  XIX,  3-12;  XXII,  23-30.     Mark 
X,  2-12;  XII,  19-25.    Luke  XVI,  18;  XX,  27-35.     Romans  VII,  1-4.     I  Cor- 
inthians VI,  12-20;  VII;  XI,  1-16.  Ephesians  V,  22;— VI,  4.   Galatians  III, 
28.     Colossians  III,  18-21.     I  Timothy  II,  9-15;  III,  1-13;  V,  1-16.     Heb- 
rews XIII,  4.     I  Peter  III,  1-8.     Revelation  XIV,  4. 

11.  This,  at  least,  is  true  except  for  the  last  two  centuries  of  the  middle 
ages,  when  the  church  was  in  a  general  condition  of  decay.     The  books  of 
Henry  Charles  Lea   (Historical  Sketch  of  Sacerdotal  Celibacy;  History  of 
Auricular  Confession  and  Indulgences;  etc.)  can  easily  be  read  in  a  wrong 
perspective.     They  might,  as  a  report  of  the  conditions  in  the  times,  almost 
be  compared  with  William  T.  Stead's  //  Christ  Came   to  Chicago,  as  an 
account  of  American  moral  conditions  in  the  closing  years  of  the  last  cen- 
tury. 

12.  The    fact   that   a    few  credulous   and    reactionary   Protestants   and 
Roman  Catholics  continue  to  publish  and  to  believe  idle  gossip  and  mali- 
cious lies  about  one  another  need  not  qualify  what  I  have1  said. 

13.  This   statement  would   hold   true,   even   if   the   few   extreme  higher 
critics  should  eventually  prove  to  be  right  in  affirming  that  we  know  little 
or  nothing  of  the  historic  Jesus  of  Nazareth.    To  whatever  extent  the  Jesus 
Christ  whom  the  Church  has  been  following  ever  since  the  synoptic  Gospels 
have  existed  in  their  present  form  is  an  historic  personage  or  an  ideal 
projected  out  of  the  experience  of  the  church,  he  remains  the  most  effec- 
tive means   (for  Gentiles  at  least)  to  gain  an  understanding  of  God,  and 
to  receive  dynamic  strength  from  Him.    Man  could  not  have  formed  such 
an  ideal  as  Jesus  Christ,  unless  God  were  at  least  as  good  as  he.     (Cf. 
Douglas  C.  Macintosh  "Is  Belief  in  the  Historicity  of  Jesus  Indispensable 
to  Christian  Faith?"  American  Journal  of  Theology,  XV   (1911)   pp.  362- 
372;  XVI  (1912)  pp.  106-110). 

14.  That  Christianity  has  not  always  been  perfect  in  its  moral  history 
need  disturb  no  one.     No  Christian  denomination  has  ever  claimed  to  be 
perfect  in  its  conduct.     (The  Roman  Catholic  claim  of  papal  infallibility 
applies  only  to  dogma,  as  we  have  seen).    All  that  the  most  ardent  Chris- 
tian  apologist  needs   to  claim   is   that   organized   Christianity   has,  on    the 
whole,  notwithstanding  blemishes,  been  the  greatest  uplifting  moral  force 
in  Europe,   (and  in  the  lands  settled  by  Europeans)   during  the  last  two 
thousand  years.     Cf.  the  References  to  this  Chapter  given  under  the  head- 
ing "Christianity  and  Moral  Evolution."    The  authors  cited  are  thoroughly 
objective  historians,  whose  least  fault  is  bias  toward  Christianity. 

CHAPTER  XIV 

1.  It  is  believed  that  this  chapter  will  be  intelligible  to  the  reader  who 
has  no  previous  acquaintance  with  psychology.  Such  readers,  however,  if 
they  wish  to  get  a  better  background  for  the  study  of  religion  will  find 
some  elementary  text  helpful.  Among  the  briefer  presentations  with  whose 


CHAPTERS  XIII-XV  451 

general  standpoint  this  chapter  is  in  agreement  are  Professor  William 
McDougall's  little  books,  "Physiological  Psychology"  and  "Psychology," 
and  Professor  James  Rowland  Angell's  Introduction  to  Modern  Psychol- 
ogy. -The  reader  will  also  find  much  of  value  in  William  James'  Psychology, 
Briefer  Course,  especially  Chapters  VIII,  X-XII,  XXIII-XXVI. 

The  author  in  this  chapter  is  chiefly  indebted  to  Professor  William 
McDougall's  Social  Psychology,  and  Dr.  Morton  Prince's  The  Unconscious. 
Cf.  also  the  author's  papers,  "Instinct  and  Sentiment  in  Religion"  and 
"The  Evolution  of  Values  from  Instincts"  published  respectively  in  vol- 
umes XXV  (1916)  and  XXIV  (1915)  of  the  Philosophical  Review,  and 
"McDougall's  Social  Psychology  in  the  Light  of  Recent  Discussion"  in  the 
Journal  of  Philosophy,  XVIII  (1921). 

2.  Morton  Prince,  The   Unconscious,  pages  52-59. 

3.  Besides  The  Unconscious,  the  author  has  got  much  light  on  the  sub- 
conscious from  Dr.  Prince's  The  Differentiation  of  a  Personality,  and  va- 
rious articles   in   The  Journal  of  Abnormal  Psychology.     The   best   short 
discussions  for  the  student  of  the  psychology  of  religion  are  James  Bissett 
Pratt,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  Chapter  III,  Professor  George  A.  Coe, 
Psychology  of  Religion,  Chapter  XII,  Dr.  George  Barton  Cutten,  Psycho- 
logical Phenomena  of  Christianity.     (Cf.  Index  under  "Subconsciousness.") 

4.  Professor  McDougall,  in  his  Social  Psychology,  gives  separate  names 
to  the  instinct  as  a  whole  (e.  g.,  pugnacity)  and  its  specific  emotion  (e.  g., 
anger).    For  the  sake  of  brevity  a  single  name  is  here  given  to  both  instinct 
and  emotion. 

5.  This  illustration  is;  given  by  Professor  Graham  Wallas,  The  Great 
Society,  Chapter  VIII.     Professor  Wallas  gives  an  effective  criticism  of 
the  exaggerated  employment  of  imitation,  suggestion,  and  sympathy. 

6.  This  illustration  is  given  by  Professor  McDougall,  Social  Psycho- 
logy, p.  78. 

7.  These  three  points  are  adapted  from  Professor  C.  H.  Cooley's  Hum- 
an Nature  and  the  Social  Order. 

8.  Cf.    Professor   E.    D.    Starbuck,  Psychology    of   Religion.      (Index, 
under  "Age"). 

CHAPTER  XV 

1.  E.  S.  Almes,  Psychology  of  Religimis  Experience,  pp.  211-013. 

2.  E.  D.   Starbuck,  Psychology  of  Religion,  pp.   188-184.       Italics  in 
original,  on  p.  194. 

3.  James  Sully,  Studies  of  Childhood,  p.  127,  Cf.  pp.  120-132,  506-513. 

4.  G.  A.  Coe,  Education  in  Religion,  and  Morals,  p.  219. 

5.  John  Fiske,  The  Idea  of  God,  p.  116. 

6.  George  E.  Dawson,  The  Child  and  His  Religion,  pp.  36-46. 

7.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  p.  191. 

8.  Cf.  the  celebrated  discussion  of  "Habit,"  by  William  James,  given 
both  in  his  Principles  of  Psychology,  and  Psychology,  Briefer  Course. 

9.  Professor  Starbuck  (op.  cit.,  Chapter  XXIV). 

10.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  p.  87. 

11.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  pp.  85-89. 

12.  Alexander  F.  Shand,  Foundations  of  Character,  p.  106. 

13.  Shand,  op.  cit.,  p.  123. 

14.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  p.  91. 

15.  William  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  207,  foot- 
note. 

16.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  pp.  91,  114. 

17.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  p.  92;  cf.  pp.  199-212. 

18.  Ames,  op.  cit.,  pp.  239-244 

19.  James   Bissett   Pratt,    The   Religious   Consciousness,   Chapters   VII, 


452  NOTES 

VIII.  The  quotation  is  from  pp.  153,  f. 

20.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  pp.  112,  f. 

91.  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Spiritual  Life,  Chapter  ill. 

92.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  p.  310. 

98.    James,  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  83. 

24.  Idem,  p.  165. 

25.  Idem,  p.  134. 

26.  Notwithstanding  the  conscientious  self-reproaches  which  every  good 
man  feels,  and  with  which  the  writings  of  the  saints  abound. 

27.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  Chapter  XXIX. 

28.  James,    Varieties    of   Religious    Experience,    lectures    XI-XV.      He 
confuses,  to  some  extent,  sanctification  in  general  with  the  peculiar  features 
pf  tha  saintliness  and  mysticism  of  the  medieval  saints.     Sanctification,  as 
discussed  in  the  present  chapter,  seems  to  me  different  from  the  experiences 
of  the  medieval  and  other  great  mystics,  which  will  be  noticed  in  Chapter 
XVII. 

29.  Observe  that  I  merely  apply  the  doctrine  of  ideo-motor  action  to 
cases  where  the  idea  of  an  action  tends  to  produce  that  action.     I  do  not 
commit  myself  to  the  more  sweeping  claim  that  all  ideas  whatever,  whether 
of  actions  or  not,  tend  to  express  themselves  in  movements. 

30.  Readers  who  think  this  criticism  of  the  revival  is  too  severe  may 
compare  it  with  the  discussions  by  Professor  Ames,  (op.  cit.,  Chapter,  XIV), 
Dr.  Cutten  (Psychological  Phenomena  of  Christianity,  Chapters  XIII,  XIV, 
XVIII),  and  Professor  G.    A.    Coe    (Spiritual    Life    and    Psychology    of 
Religion,  Chapter  X,  and  "Revivals"  in  Index).     Professor  Ames  and  Dr. 
Cutten,  by  the  way,  are  pastors  and   Professor  Coe  is   an  active  layman, 
each   in   a  different  religious  denomination  that  has  been   famous   for  its 
revivalism.     More   sympathetic   are  the   interpretations   of  William   James 
(Varieties  of  Religious  Experience}   and  Professor  James  B.  Pratt   (The 
Religious  Consciousness,  Chapter  IX),  neither  of  whom  has  been  personally 
connected  with  a  revival  denomination.     Perhaps  the  most  terrific  exposure 
of  the  revival,  written  from  a  psychological  standpoint,  is  the  Rev.  Frederick 
M.    Davenport's    Primitive    Traits   in   Religious    Revivals,    a   work    which 
probably   no   longer    represents    its    author's   opinions,    judging    from    his 
favorable  report  of  the  Billy  Sunday  revivals  in  the  Outlook,  vol.  110  (1915), 
pp.  311-315. 

31.  Starbuck,  op.  cit.,  Chapter  XI,  William  James,  Varieties  of  Religious 
Experience,  pp.  176  ff. 

32.  The  beginner  is  advised  to  postpone  the  consideration  of  this  question 
(until  later  on.     For  the  information  of  the  advanced  reader  it  is  pointed 
out  that  Dr.  Cutten's  view  will  be  found  in  his  Psychological  Phenomena  of 
Christianity,  pages  245,  f.  255-261,  351,  355,  413-418   and  passim;  that  of 
William    James    in     Varieties    of   Religious   Experience,     pp.    511ff.      The 
position  favored  by  the  author  will  be  found  in  his  paper,  "The  Relation  of 
the  Psychology  of  Religion  to  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,"  Philosophical 
Review,  Vol.  XXVII,  pp.  134-149.     A  similar  position  is  held  by  Professor 
James  Bissett  Pratt,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  Chapter  II  and  pp.  5-7, 
445-447,  458. 

CHAPTER  XVI 

1.  The  analysis,  in  sections  I-III  and  V,  follows,  with  modifications  by 
the  author,  Miss  Anna  Louise  Strong,  The  Psychology  of  Prayer. 

2.  Cf.   Charles  Horton  Cooley,  Human  Nature  and  the  Social  Order, 
Chapter  III. 

3.  Among   the    spiritual   religions,    primitive    and    Southern    Buddhism 
constitute  the  chief  exception  to  this  statement.     The  "meditation,"  which 
some  radicals  of  today  would  substitute  for  traditional  prayer,  appears  to 


CHAPTERS  XV-XVII  453 

be  of  the  monologue  type.  The  author  is  uncertain  how  to  classify  the 
prayers  of  Christian  Scientists;  their  doctrines  suggest  the  monologue  type. 
The  prayer  of  a  Positivist,  if  he  follows  the  counsel  of  August  Comte  and 
pictures  before  his  mind  the  image  of  an  absent  wife  or  mother,  would  be 
of  the  dialogue  type. 

4.  De  Coulanges,  The  Ancient  City  (Eng.  trans.),  p.  44. 

5.  A  ps3rchological  account  of  the  growth  of  the  conception  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  the  experience  of  the  Christian  church  has  been  strikingly  set  forth 
by  President  G.  Stanley  Hall  in  his  Jesus  the  Christ,  in  the  Light  of  Psy- 
chology.    How  far  this  book  is  reliable  in  its  handling  of  historical  and 
critical  material  is  another  question;  at  any  rate,  its  grasp  of  the  psycho- 
logical principles  involved  in  the  process  of  idealization  of  the  Christ  is 
penetrating  and   profound. 

6.  Anna  Louise  Strong,  op.  cit.,  p.  84. 

7.  Thoughts   (translation). 

8.  Jowett's  translation. 

9.  Cited  from  A   Book  of  Common  Worship  by  the  'New  York  State 
Conference  of  Religion,  1900. 

10.  Possibly  this  assertion  is  too  strong,  in  view  of  the  evidence  furnished 
by  Professor  J.  B.  Pratt,   (The  Religious  Consciousness,  pp.  321-323  and 
footnotes)  that  naturalistic  prayers  are  common  in  certain  Protestant  and 
Catholic  circles  numerous  enough  in  each  communion  to  maintain  societies 
and  to  publish  journals. 

11.  The  doctrine  and  illustrations  set  forth  in  tjiis  section  are  adapted 
from  William  James,  "The  Energies  of  Men"  in  Memories  and  Studies. 

12.  G.  A.  Coe,  The  Religion  of  a  Mature  Mind,  pp.  357,  f. 

13.  The  Emmanuel  Movement  in  Boston  is  a  commendable  beginning  at 
such  cooperation. 

14.  Few  popular  articles  on  prayer  are  scientifically  sound.     An  excep- 
tion is  "What  God  Has  Done  for  Me,"  by  the  author  of  "Finding  God  in 
Millersville,"  American  Magazine,  October,  1919  (LXXXVIII),  pp.  53,  ff. 
An  essay  along  the  same  lines,  to  which  only  slight  exception  needs  to  be 
taken  is  Prayer,  What  it  Is,  and  What  it  Does,  by  the  Rev.  Samuel  McComb, 
D.D.      (Published  by  Harper  Brothers,  1913.) 

15.  James   H.  Leuba,   "The  Contents  of  the   Religious  Consciousness," 
The  Monist,  Vol.  XI,  pp.  536-573. 

16.  Psychological  Bulletin,  1907,  pp.  33,  ff. 

17.  Further  evidence  is  given  by  Frank  Orman  Beck  in  the  American 
Journal  of  Religious  Psychology,  vol.  II,  pp.  116,  ff.,  who  gives  the  results 
of  a  questionnaire. 

18.  George  Barton  Cutten,  The  Psychological  Phenomena  of  Christianity, 
especially  pp.  14.18;  245,  f.;  257-261;  352-355. 

CHAPTER  XVII 

1.  James  Bissett  Pratt,  The  Religious  Consciousness,  Chapter  XVI. 

2.  E.     g.,     Psalms     XVII,     XXVII,    XXX,   XXXI,    LXIII,   CXVI, 
CXXXIX. 

3.  Evelyn  Underbill,  Mysticism. 

4.  Galatians  I,  16-18. 

5.  Acts  XXII,  17-22;  II  Corinthians  XII,  2-4.    Evelyn  Underbill,  The 
Mystic  Way,  p.  165. 

6.  Acts  XIII,  1-3. 

7.  II  Corinthians  XII;  Galatians  II,  2;  Acts  XVI,  9;  XVIII,  9,  10. 

8.  I  Corinthians,  XIV,  18. 

9.  Galatians  VI,  17. 

10.    I  Corinthians  XII,  28;  XIII,  2;  XIV. 


454  NOTES 

11.  Galatians  II,  20;   II  Corinthians  IV,   6;   Romans  VIII,   16;  Phil- 
lipians  I,  21. 

12.  Rufus  M.  Jones,  Studies  in  Mystical  Religion,  p.  IS. 

13.  I  John  IV. 

14.  John  XIV,  20;  VI,  35;  X,  7;  XV,  1,  5;  VI,  53,  f.;  cf.  56. 

15.  John  III,  11;  XXI,  24. 

16.  A.  Loisy,  Le  Quatrieme  e"vangile,  p.  55;  cited  from  E.  Underhill, 
The  Mystic  Way,  p.  240. 

17.  Augustine,  Confessions,  I,  1    (Pusey's  translation  in  the  Everyman 
Library,  p.  1). 

18.  Op.  cit.,  p.  134. 

19.  George  Eliot,  Mill  on  the  Floss,  Book  IV,  Chapter  III. 

20.  Imitation  of  Christ,   Book   I,   Chapter  I;   Chapter   XXII;   Chapter 
VIII.     (Translation.) 

21.  George  A.  Coe,  "Sources  of  Mystical  Revelation"  in  Hibbert  Journal, 
vol.  VI  (  1908),  pp.  359-372. 

22.  George    Barton   Cutten,   Psychological   Phenomena   of   Christianity, 
p.  36. 

23.  Idem,  p.  341. 

24.  James  B.  Pratt,  op.  cit.,  p.  403. 

25.  Julian  of  Norwich,  Revelations  (of  'Divine  Love,  edited  by  Grace 
Warrack,  Chapter  IV. 

26.  Cutten,  op  cit.,  p.  168. 

27.  Proceedings   of   the   Society   of  Psychical  Research,  vol.   VII,  pp. 
100-110. 

28.  The  Independent,  vol.  70  (1911),  pp.  104,  f.    Current  Literature,  vol. 
52  (1912),  pp.  73,  f. 

29.  J.  B.  Pratt,  op.  cit.,  pp.  183-187,  and  the  references  therein  cited. 

30.  Cutten,  op.  cit.,  Chapter  VIII. 

31.  Edward  Scribner  Ames,  Psychology  of  Religious  Experience,  Chap- 
ter XVIII. 

32.  R.  M.  Jones,  op.  cit.,  pp.  33-36;  55,  f.;  78,  f.;  176,  f.;  194,  f.,  and 
passim. 

33.  Evelyn  Underhill,  Mysticism,  p.  359. 

34.  Henri  Joly,  Psychology  of  the  Saints  (trans.),  Chapter  III. 

35.  Quoted  by  Joly,  op.  cit.,  p.  25. 

36.  William  James,  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  347,  f. ;  304. 

37.  James,  op.  cit.,  pp.  350,  ff. 

The  non-Catholic  reader  should  understand  that  the  symbolism  of  the 
Sacred  Heart  is  not  intended  literally.  Many  Protestants  have  derived 
help  from  a  not  wholly  dissimilar  symbolism  expressed  in  Cowper's  hymn, 
"There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood."  The  only  fair  test  is  the  actual 
fruitfulness  of  such  symbolisms  in  the  lives  of  those  who  make  of  them. 

38.  For  an  eloquent  passage  in  eulogy  of  the  great  mystics,  the  reader 
is  referred  to  Evelyn  Underhill,  Mysticism,  pp.  514,  f.     On  the  other  side 
there  is  the  judgment  of  Mrs.  Anna  Robeson  Burr  (Religious  Confessions 
and  Confessants),  endorsed  by  Professor  Pratt,  (op.  cit.,  pp.  467,  f.)   that 
ecstatics  as  a  class  are  characterized  by  a  "lack  of  creativeness  and  a  paucity 
of  original  ideas,"  and  that  whaFthey  did  accomplish  was  usually  done  in 
spite  of  their  mysticism  rather  than  because  of  it. 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

1.  In  saying  that  "God  comes  to  self-consciousness  in  the  human  race," 
or  that  He  "comes  to  self-consciousness  in  the  mind  of  an  individual  human 
being,"  the  author  does  not  mean  to  imply  that  God  is  not  already^  self- 
conscious,  both  in  other  finite  beings,  and  in  the  world  as  a  whole,  which  he 
believes  to  be  the  case. 


CHAPTERS  XVI-XYIII  455 

2.  Quoted  from  J.  E.  Creighton,  An  Introductory  Logic,  3d.  ed.,  pp. 
397,  f. 

3.  It  will  not  be  necessary  in  this  book  to  consider  how  far  these  state- 
ments require  modification  to  be  acceptable  to  advocates  of  the  Einstein 
theory  of  relativity,  as  no  such  modifications  would  affect  the  arguments 
of  this  and  later  chapters. 

4.  Popular  statements  of  such  idealistic  arguments   will  be  found  in 
E.  C.  Wilm,  Problem  of  Religion,  Chapters  III  and  IV;  A.  K.  Rogers,  The 
Religious  Conception  of  the   World;  and   Friedrich   Paulsen,  Introduction 
to  Philosophy,  Book   I,  Chapter  II.     Berkeley's  Dialogues  Between  Hylas 
and   Philonous,    and    Fichte's    Vocation    of    Man    are    delightfully   written 
classical  presentations  of  idealism  that  are  intelligible  to  the  beginner. 

5.  Lawrence  J.  Henderson,  The  Fitness  of  the  Environment,  p.  271.    Cf. 
Philosophical  Review,  vol.  XXVII,  p.  276. 

6.  L.  J.  Henderson,  Fitness  of  the  Environment,  p.  276.     The  reader 
who  has  an  elementary  knowledge  of  organic  chemistry  will  find  a  strong 
presentation  of  this  argument,  with  a  wealth  of  scientific  evidence,  in  this 
book,  and  also  in  Professor  Henderson's  The  Order  of  Nature. 

7.  L.  J.  Henderson,  Fitness  of  the  Environment,  p.  307. 

8.  L.  J.  Henderson,  The  Order  of  Nature,  especially  Chapter  X,  "The 
Teleological  Order." 

9.  L.  J.  Henderson,  Fitness  of  the  Environment,  pp.  66;  109,  f ;  263-267. 
Although  he  does  not  go  into  philosophical  and  religious  considerations,  like 
teleology,  Professor  J.  W.  Gregory  in  The  Making  of  the  Earth  furnishes 
a  number  of  illustrations  that  could  readily  be  made  into  teleological  argu- 
ments, like  Professor  Henderson's   (cf.  pp.  75-77;  128-133;  206,  f.;  214,  f. 

10.  Such  theories  as  Bergson's  cannot  be  adapted  to  the  properties  of 
matter  and  the  process  of  cosmic  evolution  as  they  are  now  regarded  by 
scientists,  in  the  opinion  of  Professor  Henderson,  Fitness  of  the  Environ- 
ment, p.  296. 

11.  "Teleology,"  as  used  in  this  book,  does  not  involve  the  "'ftnalism" 
which  Professor  Bergson  opposes,  and  which  he  calls  "teleology." 

12.  Henri    Bergson,    Creative    Evolution,    translated    by    Mitchell,    pp. 
251-271. 

13.  J.  S.  Haldane,  Mechanism,  Life  and  Personality,  p.  2. 

14.  Ibid. 

15.  Jacques  Loeb,  The  Organism  as  a  Whole,  From  a  Physico-chemical 
Viewpoint. 

16.  A  strong  popular  presentation  of  this  point  of  view  is   given  by 
D'Arcy    Wentworth    Thompson    in    the    Proceedings    of    the    Aristotelian 
Society;  N.  S.,  vol.  18   (1917-1918),  pp.  436-461. 

17.  J.  A.  Thomson,  Bible  of  Nature,  p.  100. 

18.  One  of  the  most  thoughtful  considerations  of  the  analogy  between 
organisms  and  machines  is  that  by  Professor  L.  T.  Hobhouse,  (Development 
and  Purpose,   Part   II,   Chapter  IV).     To   Professor    Hobhouse's    general 
conclusions  the  argument  in  this  chapter  is  largely  indebted. 

19.  H.  S.  Jennings,  The  Behavior  of  Lower  Organisms,  p.  234. 

20.  We  must  regard  the  assumption  that  terrestrial  organisms  developed 
from  inorganic  matter  as  inevitable,  unless  we  either  suppose  that  life  was 
brought  to  the  earth  from  elsewhere  in  the  universe  by  a  fallen  meteor  (or 
in  some  other  equally  adventitious  fashion)  ;  or  unless  we  are  willing  to  say 
that  the  mechanistic  sciences  are  constructions  for  practical  purposes  of 
so  wholly  unreal  and  artificial  a  nature  that  the  very  question  of  a  scientific 
explanation  of  the  origin  of  life  is  unmeaning. 

21.  This  remark  applies  also  to  the  interesting  attempt  to  show  that 
life  has  evolved  from  colloids.     (Benjamin  Moore,  The  Origin  and  Nature 
of  Life). 


456  NOTES 

22.  J.  S.  Haldane*  Mechantem,  Life,  and  Personality.     (New  York,  1914) 
Organism  and  Environment,  as  Illustrated  by  the  Physiology  of  Breathing. 
(New  Haven,  1917)   Proceedings  of  the   Aristotelian  Society,  N.  S.,  vol. 
XVIII,  pp.  419-436.     The  first  of  the  above  is  perhaps  the  best  exposition 
of  the  philosophy  of  the  organism  that  has  been  written  by  a  scientist  and 
is  of  a  sufficiently  elementary  character  to  meet  the   requirements  of   a 
beginner. 

23.  Of  course,  the  author  does  not  mean  to  imply  that  Darwinism  implies 
that  the  struggle  for  existence  is  in  any  sense  self-conscious,  or  even  in  most 
animals  a  conscious  struggle  for  existence.     But  it  is  a  struggle — organisms 
do  not  follow  passively  the  line  of  least  resistance  like   a  drop  of  water. 
They  struggle  to  do  one  thing  rather  than  another.     If  they  made  no  such 
struggle,  if  they  showed  no  preference  for  one  condition  rather  than  another, 
if  their  behavior  were  wholly  a  matter  comparable  to  the  laws  of  inertia 
and  gravity,  natural  selection  in  the  Darwinian  sense  could  not  occur  at  all. 

24.  These  difficulties  are  pointed  out,  and  replied  to  from  a  Darwinian 
standpoint  by  V.  L.  Kellogg,  Darwinism  To-day. 

25.  Hans  Driesch,  The  Science  and  Philosophy  of  the  Organism. 

26.  T.  H.  Huxley,  Science  and  Culture  and  Other  Essays,  pp.  245,  2-16. 

27.  The   claim   that    "consciousness    does    not    exist"    cannot    be    taken 
literally.    All  that  the  assertion  can  mean,  for  those  who  make  it,  is  that  in 
their  opinion   consciousness   does  not   exist  on   the   same  plane  that   other 
psychologists  have  assumed,  that  it  is  not  a  substance  in  the  sense  of  matter, 
etc.     Descartes,  who  is  perhaps  the  founder  of  mechanistic  physiology  and 
psychology,  knew  that  it  is  impossible  to  doubt  the  existence  of  conscious- 
ness, and  his  "cogito,  ergo  sum"  argument  at  least  establishes  this  for  all 
time. 

28.  The  best  presentation  of  this  doctrine,  perhaps,  is  Professor  John 
Broadus  Watson's  Behavior,  the  opening  chapter  of  which  will  not  be  too 
technical  for  the  beginner. 

29.  Bergson's  doctrine,  given  in  Matter  and  Memory,  is  too  complicated 
to  summarize  here.    This  allusion  in  no  sense  does  justice  to  it. 

80.    William  McDougall,  Body  and  Mind. 

31.  The  beginner  will  find  the  various  mental  processes  developed  from 
the    standpoint    of    functional    psychology    in    President    James    Rowland 
Angell's  Psychology,  and  in  his  Introduction  to  Modern  Psychology.    More 
advanced  discussions  are  J.  R.  Angell,  "The  Relation  of  Structural  and 
Functional  Psychology"  and  Professor  G.  H.  Mead's  "The  Definitions  of 
the   Psychical,"  both  in   the   Decennial  Publications   of   the    University   of 
Chicago.    A  Mmilar  standpoint  is  held  by  Professor  C.  H.  Judd,  "Evolution 
and  Consciousness"  in  Psychological  Review,  vol.  XVII,  pp.  77,  ff.     The 
point  of  view  held  by  Professor  L.  T.  Hobhouse,  who  has  made  a  penetrat- 
ing analysis  of  all  the  factors  in  mental  evolution,  may  also  be  classified  in 
a  broad  way  as  functional.     (Development  and  Purpose,  Mind  and  Evolu- 
tion). 

32.  Hugo  Miinsterberg,  Psychology,  General  and  Applied.     The  meta- 
physical standpoint  is  developed  in  his  Philosophie  der  Werte,  of  which 
the  English  version  is  likely  to  be  misunderstood. 

33.  M.  W.  Calkins,  A   First  Book  in  Psychology,  pages  273-292.     This 
reference  will  suffice  for  the  beginner.     The  advanced  reader  should  also 
consult  Miss  Calkins'  Introduction  to  Psychology   and  her  papers  in  the 
Journal  of  Philosophy,  volumes  IV  and  V. 

34.  L.  T.  Hobhouse,  Morals  in  Evolution,  third  edition,  p.  596.     Cf.  also 
his  more  popular  Social  Evolution  and  Political  Theory. 

35.  Edward  Westermarck,  The  Origin  and  Development  of  the  Moral 
Ideas,  vol.  II,  pp.  186-228;  738-74-6. 

36.  Alexander  Sutherland,  Origin  and  Growth  of  the  Moral  Instinct. 


CHAPTERS  XVIII-XIX  457 

37.  William   McDou'gall,   Social   Psychology,   especially   Chapters   VIII 
and  IX. 

38.  Since    this    chapter    was    written    there    has    appeared    The    Grand 
Strategy   of  Evolution,  by   Professor  William   Patten,   a  biologist.     While 
Professor  Patten  uses  terms  in  senses  of  his  own,  and  the  word  "teleology" 
does  not  appear  in  the  Index,  his  contention  throughout  is  for  what  I  have 
called  teleology.    He  believes  that  "there  is  but  one  creative  process  common 
to   all  -phases   of  evolution,   inorganic,   organic,  mental,   and    social.      That 
process  is  best  described  by  the  term  "co-operation  or  mutual  service," 
(p.  33).     "The  essential  factors  at  every  stage  of  evolution  are  service  and 
•Tightness,"    (p.   59).     This  he  illustrates  by   the   preservation   of   a   worm, 
rnd  (on  a  higher  and  more  varied  plane,  of  course)  in  the  life  of  man  in 
j-ooiety   (p.  60).     "We  have  seen  that  the  one  outstanding  fact  which  now 
dominates  the  thoughts  and  acts  of  intelligent  men  is  evolution,  or  nature 
growth,  embracing  alike  all  physical,  organic,  mental,  and  social  phenomena 
in  its  spontaneous  constructive  action,  and  using  them  all  alike  in  the  con- 
summation of  its  creative  purpose."    Man  is  compelled  to  accept  "Nature's 
Constructive  Tightness  as  his  ethical  standard"  and  "to  recognize  in  natural 
growth  the  expression  of  a  creative  will,"   (p.  412).     Professor  Patten  has 
at  his  command  a  wide  range  of  scientific  evidence,  and  makes  a  powerful 
case,  which  can  hardly  fail  to  impress  every  scientific  reader. 

CHAPTER  XIX 

1.  Such    religions,    in    the    Occident    at    the    present    time,    put    their 
emphasis  upon  ethics.     It  is  a  question  whether  they  are  religions  at  all,  in 
the  sense  in  which  religion  has  been  defined  in  Chapter  V.    Noteworthy  are 
the  societies  of  Ethical  Culture  and  of  Positivism.   They  are  agnostic  rather 
than    atheistic.      Cf.    Felix   Adler's    An   Ethical   Philosophy    of   Life,    and 
various  Ethical  Addresses  by  W.  M.  Salter;  Frederick  Harrison,  The  Creed 
of  a  Layman,  and  The  Philosophy  of  Common  Sense;  J.  H.  Bridges,  Essays 
end  Addresses.     Philosophical  presentations  of  religious  positions  that  do 
not  assume  a  God  are  G.  S.  Santayana's  Reason  in  Religion;  R.  W.  Sellars' 
The  Next  Step  in  Religion;  Bertrand  Russell's  "Free  Man's  Worship"  (see 
note  16  below) ;  and  T.  H.  Huxley's  Evolution  and  Ethics;  and,  of  course, 
Auguste  Comte's  Politiqve  Positive. 

2.  Cf.   "The  Universal  Prayer,"  by  Alexander  Pope. 

3.  It  is  a  disputed  question  whether  either  Lincoln  or  his  audience  at 
the  time  had  an  adequate  conception  of  the  importance  of  this  address  as 
an  interpretation  of  the  events  through  which  they  were  passing. 

4.  Arguments  of  this  general  tenor  have  come  down  from  the  times  of 
Fichte  and  Hegel.     The  beginner  will  get  much  from  Fichte's  Vocation  of 
Man  and  Nature   of  the  Scholar.     Among  more  technical  works  of  the 
present  time,  the   following  are   to  be   commended:      Bernard   Bosanquet, 
Principle  of  Individuality  and  Value,  and  Value  and  Destiny  of  the  Indi- 
vidual; Andrew  Seth  Pringle-Pattison,  Idea  of  God  in  the  Light  of  Recent 
Philosophy;  Hastings  Rashdall,  Theory  of  Good  and  Evil,  Book  III;  W.  R. 
Sorley,  Moral  Values  and  the  Idea  of  God;  and  S.  Alexander,  Time,  Space 
and  Deity. 

5.  In  stating  this  argument,  as  well  as  the  next,  the  author  has  not 
deemed  it  necessary  to  indicate  precisely  how  far  he  has  adopted  and  how 
far  modified   Kant's    famous   arguments.     The  beginner,  with   a  little  aid 
from  his  teacher,  or  a  commentary,  will  be  able  to  follow  the  reasoning  along 
these  lines  in  Kant's  Critique  of  Practical  Reason  and  Fichte's  Way  to  the 
Blessed  Life.    He  can  gain  much  also  from  Carlyle's  chapter  on  "The  Ever- 
lasting Now"  in  Sartor  Resartus.     The  illustration  of  the  "time  span"  is 
from  Josiah  Royce,  The  World  and  the  Individual. 


458  NOTES 

6.  The  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge  and  Three  Dialogues  Between 
Hylaf  and  Philonous.    Written  in  masterly  and  lucid  English,  they  are  still 
perhaps  the  best  introduction  to  mentalism  for  a  beginner. 

7.  The  foregoing  account   follows  largely  the  popular  expositions  by 
Josiah  Royce, — viz:   The  RcligimM  Aspect  of  Philosophy,  and  The  Spirit  of 
Modern  Philosophy,  lecture  XL    Other  good  popular  accounts  will  be  found 
in  E.  C.  Wilm's  Problem  of  Religion  and  A.  K.  Rogers'  Religious  Concep- 
tion of  the  World.    The  best  cdocise  statement  of  contemporary  meutalism 
will  be  found  in  Miss  Mary  W.  Calkins'  presidential  address,  "The  Person- 
alistic  Conception  of  Nature,"  Philosophical  Review,  vol.  XXVIII,  (1919). 

8.  This  view,  called  "panpsychistn,"  is  set  forth  in  an  eloquent  and  lucid 
manner  in  Friedrich  Paulsen's  Introduction  to  Philosophy,  pp.  87-111.     A 
more  technical  presentation  will  be  found  in  Josiah  Royce's  The  World  and 
the  Individual,  vol.  II,  pp.  219-242. 

9.  The  two  forms  of  idealism  have  been  most  clearly  distinguished  in 
American  philosophical  literature  by  Professor  J.  E.  Creighton,  "Two  Types 
of  Idealism,"  Philosophical  Review,  vol.  XXVI,  pp.  514-536.     Cf.  Bernard 
Bosanquet,  "Realism  and  Metaphysics,"  same  volume  of  the  Review,  pp.  4- 
15,  and  A.  S.  Pringle-Pattison,  The  Idea  of  God,  etc.,  lecture  X.  There  is  no 
elemejntary  work  representing  this  standpoint  to  which  a  beginner  can  be 
referred.     Perhaps   the  nearest  approximation  is   Professor   R.   F.   Alfred 
Hoernle's  Studies  in  Contemporary  Metaphysics.    Much  help  can  be  gained, 
in  a  comparatively  untechnical  form,  from  Professor  Creighton's  articles, 
which  have  appeared  from  time  to  time  in  the  Philosophical  Review,  as  well 
as  from  the  Third  Part  of  his  Introductory  Logic.     The  standpoint  is  also 
held  by  most  of  his  pupils  who  have  contributed  to  Philosophical  Essays  in 
Honor  of  James  Edwin  Creighton. 

10.  D.  C.  Macintosh,  Problem  of  Knowledge,  p.  400. 

11.  Ibid.,  pp.  410,  422-431. 

12.  W.  James,  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  page  515. 

13.  W.  James,  The  Will  to  Believe  and  Other  Essays,  pp.  122,  127. 

14.  But  cf.  Horace  Meyer  Kallen,  in  Creative  Intelligence,  a  volume  of 
essays  edited  by  John  Dewey.    Cf.  pp.  433-436,  439-445. 

15.  The  most  recent  defense  of  religion  from  the  point  of  view  of  prag- 
matism is  by  Dr.  J.  R.  Geiger,  Some  Religious  Implications  of  Pragmatism 
(in  the  Philosophic  Studies  of  the  University  of  Chicago).    Attention  should 
be  called  to  three  volumes  by  Professor  E.  S.  Ames,  The  Divinity  of  Christ, 
The  Higher  Individualism,  and  The  New  Orthodoxy.    Chapters  on  religious 
topics  will  be  found  in  the  books  of  Dr.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller,  (Riddles  of  the 
Sphinx;  Humanism;  Studies  in  Humanism).    The  following  books  show  in 
some  respects  the  influence  of  pragmatism: — George  Burnam  Foster,  The 
Function  of  Religion  in  Man's  Struggle  for  Existence,  and  The  Finality  of 
the   Christian  Religion;   Professor   Irving  King,  Development   of  Religion 
(closing  chapter) ;  Professor  D.  C.  Macintosh,  Problem  of  Knowledge  and 
Theology  as  an  Empirical  Science. 

16.  Bertrand    Russell,    "The    Free    Man's    Worship"    in    Philosophical 
Essays,  Chapter  II,  and  also  in  Mysticism  and  Logic,  Chapter  III. 

17.  Harvard  Theological  Review,  vol.  XI   (1918),  p.  153.     This  article, 
"Neo-Realism  and  Religion,"  is  a  valuable  report  of  the  status  of  religion 
in   the   new   realistic   camp.     Cf.    also    Professor    Hoernle's    article,    "The 
Religious  Aspects  of  Bertrand  Russell's  Philosophy,"  Harvard  Theological 
Review,  vol.  IX   (1916),  pp.  157-189,  and  the  writings  by  Russell  therein 
cited. 

18.  R.  W.  Sellars,  The  Next  Step  in  Religion. 

19.  E.  G.  Spaulding,  The  New  Rationalism)  p.  517. 

20.  E.  G.  Spaulding,  op.  cit.,  p.  521, 


CHAPTERS  XIX-XX  459 

91.    See  Chapter  XVIII,  Note  18. 

22.  Cf.  an  article  in  the  Harvard  Theological  Review  (1914),  pp.  391-895. 

23.  Chiefly  in  his  Present  Philosophical  Tendencies  and  Moral  Economy. 

24.  See  the  preceding  chapter,  and  the  discussion  of  teleological  and 
evolutionary  arguments  in  this  chapter. 

25.  See  the  later  chapters  of  Herbert  Spencer's  Data  of  Ethics. 

26.  The  beginner  will  find  these  four  short  essays  by  John  Fiske  most 
satisfactory,  especially  the  second  of  them:  The  Destiny  of  Man;  the  Idea 
of  God;  Through  Nature  to  God;  Life  Everlasting.    "While  never  willing  to 
commit   himself   to    Fiske's    theological    reconstruction    of   his    philosophy, 
Spencer  seems  to  have  welcomed  it.     (Cf.  J.  Fiske,  Essays  Historical  and 
Literary,  vol.  II,  p.  2£9,  (first  note).    He  certainly  came  to  feel  more  kindly 
toward  religion  in  his  old  age   (Cf.  Spencer's  Autobiography,  vol.   II,  pp. 
544-549,    and    Hugh    Elliot,    Herbert    Spencer,    pp.    170,    225-228).      Good 
popular  refutations  of  Agnosticism  will  be  found  in  President  J.  G.  Schur- 
man's   Agnosticism   and  Religion   and   Belief  in   God.     One   of   the  best 
technical  refutations   is   Professor  James  Ward's  Naturalism  and  Agnos- 
ticism^   A  good  semi-popular  refutation  is  F.  C.  S.  Schiller's  Riddles  of  the 
Sphinx.    The  best  technical  defense  of  Agnosticism  is  still,  probably,  Her- 
bert Spencer's  First  Principles.     Popular  arguments  for  Agnosticism  will 
be  found  in  the  essays  of  T.  H.  Huxley,  John  Tyndall,  W.  K.  Clifford,  R. 
G.  Ingersoll,  and  in  E.  Haeckel's  Riddle  of  the  Universe. 

27.  William  James,  The  Will  to  Believe  and  Other  Essays  in  Popular 
Philosophy,   especially   pages    1-31,  90-110.     With   this   account  should  be 
studied   Some  Problems   of  Philosophy,  pages  221-231,   a  later  and   more 
restrained  argument,  which  he  gave  to  his  undergraduate  classes  at  Harvard. 
In  reading  the  earlier  work  the  reader  should  bear  in  mind  that  James  later 
decided  that  the  essay  ought  to  have  been  called  "the  Right  to  Believe" 
instead  of  "The  Will  to  Believe."    The  chief  departure  I  have  made  from 
James  in  the  text  is  in  insisting  that  all  emotional  preference  ought  to  be 
eliminated  and  that  one  ought  to  decide  dispassionately,  on  purely  intel- 
lectual grounds,  whether  or  not  there  is  a  God.     In  urging  this  I  may  be 
preaching  a  counsel  of  perfection,  but  every  one  certainly  ought  to  make 
the  endeavor  to  be  intellectually  dispassionate  in  considering  such  a  ques- 
tion.   And  he  ought  to  remember  that  people  who  decide  against  belief  in 
God  are  quite  as  likely  to  be  swayed  by  emotional  prejudices  as  are  those 
who  decide  for  this  belief. 

CHAPTER  XX 

1.  The  terms   "traditional   theism"   and   "traditional   pajntheism"  have 
been  somewhat   arbitrarily  chosen  by  the   author  to  designate  two  rival 
tendencies  in  European  Christian   (and,  as  well,  the  author  thinks  likely, 
Jewish)  thought.    The  expressions  themselves  ("theism"  and  "pantheism") 
are  used  in  a  large  variety  of  senses.    If  the  reader  will  take  the  trouble  to 
consult  five  or  six  standard  reference  books,  he  will  find  that  many  thinkers 
described  as  "'theists"  in  one  will  be  called  "pantheists"  in  another.    While 
these  two  tendencies,  in  the  form  in  which  they  are  described  in  this  chapter, 
can  be  clearly  traced  in  the  history  of  philosophical  and  religious  thought, 
it  is  probably  true  that  nearly  all  the  greatest  thinkers  have  been  influenced 
by  both  of  them. 

2.  The  references  in  this  and  the  three  preceding  paragraphs  are  all  to 
William  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  Lecture  XX,  and 
Postscript. 

3.  William  James,  A   Pluralistic  Universe,  pp.  310,  f.;  cf.  p.  318. 

4.  Idem,  p.  124.     The  views  of  John  Stuart  Mill  will  be  found  in  his 
Essays  on  Religion  and  Autobiography.     A  concise  summary  is  given  in 
Hb'ffding's  History  of  Modern  Philosophy,  Vol.  II,  pp.  427-433. 


460  NOTES 

5.  William  James,  Pragmatism,  pp.  72,  80. 

6.  William  James,  The  Will  to  Believe  and  Other  Essays,  p.  61. 

7.  William  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  519. 

8.  Theodore  Flournoy,  The  Philosophy  of  William  James,  p.  165.     This 
little  book  is  indispensable  for  those  who  wish  to  study  James  from  the 
religious  standpoint. 

9.  Andrew  Seth  Pringle-Pattison,  The  Idea  of  God  in  the  Light  of 
Recent  Philosophy,  p.  396. 

10.  These  quotations  are   from  the   closing  pages  of  Professor  L.   T. 
Hobhouse's  Development  and  Purpose.     His  other  most  important  philo- 
sophical works  are  The  Theory   of  Knowledge;  Mind  in  Evolution;  and 
Morals  in  Evolution. 

11.  From  the  closing  sentences  in  Morals  in  Evolution. 

12.  The  nearest  Professor  Hobhouse  has  come  to  saying  this,  so  far  as 
the  author  knows,  is  in  the  following  sentence:     "Hence  if  the   [human] 
mind  does  not  directly  through  the  religious  consciousness  become  aware 
of  its  relation  to  a  greater  Spirit,  it  does  have  to  recognize  the  existence 
of  conditions  appropriate  to  the  operation  of  such  a  Spirit,  and  to  admit 
in  its  own  history  a  process  in  which  such  conditions  are  working  out  their 
natural  results."     {Development  and  Purpose,  pp.  371,  f.).    Does  the  clause 
beginning  with  "if"  express  mere  uncertainty,  or  is  it  to  be  understood  as 
a  statement  of  fact?     For  the  "if"  should  we  understand   "even  if,"  or 
"although  it  is  true  that"?     The  former  alternative  would  bring  him  the 
more  closely  into  agreement  with  the  contention  made  by  me. 

13.  Hastings  Rashdall,  The  Theory  of  Good  and  Evil,  all  of  Book  III, 
and  particularly  pages  211-246;  286-294;  335-356.     Cf.  his  essay  "Person- 
ality, Human  and  Divine,"  in  Personal  Idealism  (edited  by  Henry  Sturt). 
Dr.  Rashdalfs  books  are  among  the  most  helpful  in  existence  for  the  Chris- 
tian student  who  Believes  that  an  absolutely  honest  and  fearless  study  of 
philosophy  will  be  of  more  value  to  him  in  the  end  than  the  obscurantism 
usually  found  in  religious  books  written  by  and  for  clergymen. 

14.  Probably  Dr.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller's  first  book,  The  Riddles  of  the  Sphinx, 
of  which  a  new  edition  appeared  a  few  years  ago,  is  the  most  helpful  for 
the  beginner.    His  more  recent  thought  on  the  subject  will  be  found  in  his 
Humanism,  New  Studies  in  Humanism,  and  in  various  articles  during  recent 
years  in  the  British  philosophical  and  theological  journals.     Dr.  Schiller's 
writing  is   vigorous,  lively,  interesting,   and   usually  not  too  difficult  for 
anyone  who  has  acquired  a  little  acquaintance  with  Philosophy. 

15.  Josiah  Royce,  The  Spirit  of  Modern  Philosophy,  pp.  470,  f. 

16.  Josiah   Royce's   principal   works   bearing  on   this    theme   are:     The 
Religious  Aspect  of  Philosophy,  1885;   The  Spirit  of  Modern  Philosophy, 
1892;  The  Conception  of  God  (with  Howison  and  others),  1897;  Studies  of 
Good  and  Evil,  1898;  The  World  and  the  Individual,  2  vols.,  1900,   1001; 
The  Philosophy  of  Loyalty,  1908;  The  Sources  of  Religious  Insight,  1912; 
The  Problem  of  Christianity,  1913.     A  short  and  useful  summary  of  his 
philosophy  will  be  found  in  F.  Thilly,  History  of  Philosophy,  pages  559-561. 
The  student  will  find  most  of  the  fundamental  features  of  Royce's  philosophy 
of  religion  in  either  of  the  first  two  volumes  mentioned  above.     The  Phil- 
osophy of  Loyalty  and  parts  of  the  Problem  of  Christianity  are  the  most 
untechnical  and  latest  statements  of  his  thought.     The  World  and  the  Indi- 
vidual is  his  fullest  and  most  systematic  work. 

17.  In  this  section  the  author  chiefly  has  in  mind  the  Appearance  and 
Reality  of  Mr.  F.  H.  Bradley.    At  times  the  thought  of  Professor  Bernard 
Bosanquet  seems  similar,  but  on  the  whole  his  attitude  toward  religion  is 
more  affirmative. 


CHAPTERS  XX-XXI  461 

CHAPTER  XXI 

1.  See  page  370  above. 

2.  See  Chapter  XII,  Section  III. 

3.  E.  L.  van  Becelaere,  in  an  article  on  "Grace, — Roman  Catholic"  in 
Hastings'  Encyclopedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics. 

4.  Paradise  Lost,  Book  II,  lines  557-561. 

5.  William  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  II,  chapter  on  "Will"; 
the  principal  points  also  in  the  corresponding  chapter  of  his  Briefer  Course. 

6.  William  McDougall,  Social  Psychology,  Chapter  IX. 

7.  Th.  Flournoy,  Philosophy  of  William  James,  Chapter  VII. 

8.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller,  Studies  in  Humanism,  p.  415. 

9.  William  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  II,  p.  577,  note. 

10.  Determinists  allege  that  there  are  at  least  two  important  differences 
between  determinism  and   fatalism.      (1)    For  the  determinist,  unlike   the 
fatalist,  "we  are  not  bound  to  a  changeless  order  of  conduct.     The  vast 
whole  of  events,  linked  together  as  we  may  believe  in  Indissoluble  bonds,  is 
not  a  static  world,  but  the  sense  of  movement,  change,  and  life.     To  hold 
that   the   mental   sphere   is   through   and   through    a   determinately   related 
sphere,  no  more  excludes  from  it  genuinely  new  experiences  than  a  similar 
conception  which  thinking  men  are  agreed  in  applying  to  nature,  excludes 
new  events  there."     (2)  Fatalism  ignores  "the  part  played  by  the  self,  and 
is  inclined  to  represent  human  life  as  the  helpless  sport  of  external  forces. 
.     .     .     Fatalism  regards  human  destiny  as  fixed  independently  of  human 
action;  determinism  regards  it  as  fixed  only  in  and  through  human  choice. 
.     .     .     Dependent  upon  a  cosmic  Power  we  all  indeed  are,  but  the  fact 
that  this  Power  accomplishes  certain  ends  only  in  and  through  our  thinking 
and  willing  is  disregarded  by  fatalism."     A  determinism  which  recognizes 
the  self  as  an  active  and  potent  factor  in  shaping  human  life  does  not  "cut 
the  nerve  of  moral  endeavor  and  result  in  stagnation  or  in  a  hopeless  sur- 
render to  circumstances"  as  belief  in  fatalism,  would  do.     W.  G.  Everett, 
Moral  Values,  pp.  363-365. 

11.  There  are  excellent  discussions  of  freedom  in  various  treatises  on 
ethics.     Among  those   on   the   determinist   side  may  be   recommended   the 
chapters  on  the  subject  in  the  following:  Professor  Andrew  Seth,  A  Study 
of  Ethical  Principles;  Friedrich  Paulsen,  System  of  Ethics;  Professor  F. 
Thilly,  Introduction  to  Ethics;  Professor  W.  G.  Everett,  Moral  Values;  and, 
for  a  more  advanced  treatment,  Dr.   Hastings   Rashdall,   Theory  of  Good 
and  Evil.     Two  of  the  best  defences  of  indeterminism  are  William  James' 
essay,  '''The  Dilemma  of  Determinism"  in  his  The  Will  to  Believe  and  Other 
Essays,   and  Dr.   F.   C.   S.   Schiller's   essay,    "Freedom,"   published   in   his 
Studies  in  Humanism.     A  more  advanced  treatment  will  be  found  in  Pro- 
fessor W.  R.  Sorley's  Moral  Values  and  the  Idea  of  God. 

,      12.     Some  Problems  of  Philosophy,  p.  139. 

13.  Studies  in  Humanism,  p.  413,   and   passim.     This   is   a   rather  free 
paraphrase  of  what  Dr.  Schiller  says.    I  desire  to  apologize  if  I  have  in  any 
way  misinterpreted  him.     In  any  case,  the  argument  as  I  have  put  it  seems 
to  be  a  good  one,  from  the  indeterminist  standpoint. 

14.  James  Ward,  The  Realm  of  Ends,  page  492. 

15.  William  James,  The  Will  to  Believe  and  Other  Essays,  p.  181.     This 
view — that  the  ultimate  destiny  of  things  has  been  decided  in  advance,  and 
that  human,  freedom  of  initiative  cannot  essentially  affect  the  outcome — 
seems  later  to  have  been  abandoned  by  James  in  favor  of  the  view  attrib- 
uted to  him  in  earlier  paragraphs  of  this  section. 

16.  James'   specific   discussions   of  the   freedom   of   the   will   are   chiefly 
given  in  his  early  philosophical  book  The  Will  to  Believe  and  Other  Essays. 
Pluralism  is  discussed  in  nearly  all  his  books:    that  in  Some  Problems  of 


462  NOTES 

Philosophy  is  the  latest,  and  in  many  ways  the  best.  The  Pluralistic  Uni- 
verse is  chiefly  an  appreciative  interpretation  of  other  pluralistic  philos- 
ophers with  whom  he  was  in  sympathy.  It  contains  little  that  bears  on  the 
problem  of  this  section.  Besides  Dr.  Schiller's  essay  already  cited,  two 
papers  on  this  general  subject  are  given  in  the  appendix  to  the  new  edition 
of  his  Riddles  of  the  Sphinx. 

17.  Josiah  Royce,  The   World  and  the  Individual,  vol.  II,  pp.  352-360. 

18.  Josiah  Royce,  ibid.,  p.  349. 

19.  Idem,  p.  291. 

20.  Ibid.,  p.  293. 

21.  Josiah  Royce,  Philosophy  of  Loyalty,  p.  395. 

22.  Josiah  Royce,  ibid,,  p.  390. 

23.  The  beginner  might  first  read  Josiah  Royce,  Spirit  of  Modern  Phil- 
osophy, pages  428-434.     This  passage  will  be  clearer  if  Lectures  X-XIII 
are  studied  in  their  entirety.     A  more  advanced  treatment  is  given  in  the 
World  and  the  Individual,  Vol.  II,  Lectures  VII  and  VIII.     Cf.  also  The 
Philosophy  of  Loyalty,  Lecture  VIII.     Royce's  treatment  of  the  problem 
of  freedom  from  the  standpoint  of  Absolute  Idealism  appears  to  the  author 
so  admirable  in  every  way  that  he  has  not  supplemented  it  with  the  inter- 
pretations of  other  writers  of  the  school.     Among  contemporary  discussions 
the   advanced  reader  is  particularly  referred   to  Bernard  Bosanquet,   The 
Principle  of  Individuality  and  Value,  Lecture  IX  and  The  Value  and  Des- 
tiny of  the  Individual,  Lecture  IV.     There  is  a  particularly  fine  pass.-igc 
in  A.  S.  Pringle-Pattison's  The  Idea  of  God  in  the,  Light  of  Recent  Philo- 
sophy, pages   291-296.     Cf.   also   A.   E.   Taylor,  Elements   of  Metaphysics, 
Book  IV,  Chapter  IV.     For  a  discussion  of  determinism  from  the  realistic 
standpoint,  cf.  S.  Alexander,  Space,  Time,  and  Deity,  Book  III,  Chapter  X. 

24.  A  suggestive  discussion  of  group  volition  will  be  found  in  William 
McDougalPs,  The  Group  Mind,  part  II. 

CHAPTER  XXII 

1.  Henri  Bergson,  Creative  Evolution,  translated  by  Arthur  Mitchell, 
p.  27. 

2.  William  James,  Human  Immortality,  p.  27. 

3.  Idem,  pp.  viii,  f. 

4.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller,  Riddles  of  the  Sphinx,  revised  edition,  pp.  28f),  f. 
This  explanation  is  a  detail  in  a  very  suggestive  chapter,  in  which  are  set 
forth   illuminating  interpretations   of   evoluton    from   a   Ideological    stand- 
point, and  of  the  relations  between  God  and  man.     Though  the  exposition 
is  apparently  from  a  neo-Lamarckian  standpoint,  most  of  it  could   prob- 
ably be  rephrased  so  that  it  would  accord  with  other  biological  interpre- 
tations of  evolution. 

5.  Cf.  especially  Matter  and  Memory  (English  translation)  pp.  xv.,  139- 
169;  225-232. 

6.  "The  Mind  and  the  Brain"  in  a  collection  of  papers  entitled  Con- 
cerning Immortality,  and  edited  by  B.  H.  Streeter. 

7.  William   McDougall,   Body   and   Mind.     The   characteristics   of   the 
soul  are  summarized  on  p.  365. 

8.  Sir  Oliver  Lodge,  The  Survival  of  Man,  p.  341. 

9.  William  McDougall,  Body  and  Mind,  pp.  351,  f. 

10.  Besides  the  Proceedings  of  the  Society  of  Psychical  Research,  the 
following  works  are  favorable  to  spiritism  and  telepathy: — James  H. 
Hyslop,  Life  After  Death;  Sir  Oliver  Lodge,  The  Survival  of  Man  and 
Raymond;  Frank  Podmore,  Modern  Spiritualism;  and  Frederic  W.  H. 
Myers,  Human  Personality  and  Its  Survival  of  Bodily  Death.  A  symna- 


CHAPTERS  XXI-XXII  463 

thetic  summary  of  the  status  and  results  of  such  investigations  is  given 
by  W.  F.  Barrett,  Psychical  Research  in  the  Home  University  Library 
series.  A  telling,  and  as  the  author  believes,  an  entirely  just  criticism,  is 
Amy  E.  Tanner's  Studies  in  Spiritism.  A  more  sympathetic  critic,  who  is 
in  the  author's  opinion  not  sufficiently  severe,  is  Lily  Dougall,  "The  Good 
and  Evil  in  Spiritism"  published  in  Concerning  Imtnortalty,  a  volume  of 
essays  edited  by  B.  H.  Streeter.  Suggestive  is  an  article  by  Mathilde 
Weil,  "Experiences  of  a  Medium"  in  the  Yale  Review,  Vol.  IX,  pp.  586- 
598,  April,  1920.  William  James'  final  opinion  will  be  found  in  "Final 
Impressions  of  a  Psychical  Researcher"  published  in  his  Memories  and 
Studies.  The  tricks  of  the  ordinary  professional  medium  are  exposed  by 
David  Phelps  Abbott,  Behind  the  Scenes  With  the  Mediums. 

11.  G.  T.  Fechner,  Life  After  Death   (English  translation);  and  Zend 
Avesta.     F.  Paulsen,  Introduction  to  Philosophy   (trans.)   p.  243. 

12.  H.  Miinsterberg,  The  Eternal  Life;  cf.  his  Psychology,  General  and 
Applied,  Chapter  XXII. 

13.  James    H.    Leuba,    The   Belief  in    God    and   Immortality.      Cf.    the 
author's  review  of  this  book,  and  Professor  Leuba's  reply  in  the  Psycho- 
logical Bulletin  for  1918. 

14.  James  H.  Leuba,  Belief  in  God  and  Immortality,  p.  252.     Cf.  the 
diagrams  on  pages  253,  255,  261,  264,  and  268. 

15.  G.  Lowes  Dickinson,  Is  Immortality  Desirable?  p.  45. 

16.  Cf.  Chapter  XVIII,  §VII,  and  Chapter  XIX,  §11-3. 

17.  See  pp.  346-350. 

18.  Bernard  of  Cluny,  translated  by  John  Mason  Neale. 

19.  The  greatest  ancient  defender  of  the  doctrine  of  preexistence  was 
Plato.     One  of  his  arguments  for  it  is  largely  based  on  his  supposition  that 
the  ability  to  form  concepts  can  only  be  explained  by  recollection,  and  that 
if  concepts  cannot  be  traced  to  previous  recollection  in  this  life,  they  must 
be  due  to  memories  from  an  earlier  state  of  existence.     The  simplest  state- 
ment of  the  doctrine  will  be  found  in  the  Meno.     Its  more  developed  forms 
are  given  in  the  Phaedrus  and  Phaedo.     Modern  philosophers  are  able  to 
explain  conception  without  reducing  it  to  a  form  of  recollection;   so  this 
argument  is  now  worthless.     Another  Platonic  argument  is  based  on  the 
now  discarded  doctrine  that  the  soul  is  a  simple  substance,  and  therefore 
is  indestructible  and  eternal.     A  beautiful  poetical  statement  of  preexist- 
ence is  given  in  Wordworth's  Ode  on  Imitations'  of  Immortality.     A  mod- 
ern philosophical  defender  of  preexistence  is  Dr.  J.  E.  McTaggart,  Human 
Immortality   and  P re-existence  and   Studies   in  Hegelian   Cosmology,   sec- 
tions 41,  ff. 

20.  William  James,  Human  Immortality,  pp.  32-45. 

21.  Spinoza,  Ethics,  chiefly  at  the  close  of  Part  V. 

22.  J.  G.  Fichte,  Way  to  the  Blessed  Life  (published  in  Fichte's  Popu- 
lar Works,  translation  by  Kroeger). 

23.  H.  Miinsterberg,  The  Eternal  Life;  and  The  Eternal  Values.     The 
German  text  of  the  latter  is  decidedly  preferable,  (Philosophic  der  Werte}. 

24.  Such  I  take  to  be  the  view,  among  others,  of  Mr.   F.   H.   Bradley 
(Appearance  and  Reality,  Chapters  XXVI,  XXVII,  Essays  on  Truth  and 
Reality,  Chapters  XV,  XVI)    and  of  Professor  Bernard   Bosanquet   (The 
Value  and  Destiny  of  the  Individual,  Lectures  IX,  X). 

25.  Evelyn  Underbill,  Mysticism,  p.  503,  Cf.  Dante,  Paradiso,  xxx,  61. 

26.  Josiah  Royce,  The  World  and  the  Individual,  Vol.  II,  p.  452. 

27.  Revelation,  XXII,  11,  12, 


INDEX 


ABELARD,  169. 


Abraham,  65,  137. 

Absolute,  the,  see  God. 

Adam,  137. 

Adler,  Felix,  457. 

Adolescence,  110,  111,  237-245. 

Agency,   the,   in   religious   endeavor, 

44-46,   69,  80,   109,   128,   131,   146, 

209,  286,  287. 
Agnosticism,   362-364. 
Alacoque,   Blessed   Margaret   Mary, 

303. 

Alexander  Jannaeus,  135. 
Alexander,  S.,  360,  390. 
Alexander  the  Great,  117,  129,  134. 
Alter,  in  prayer,  258,  260,  293. 
Ambrose,  St.,  164,  167,  202. 
Ames,  E.   S.,  vi,  68,   149,  213,  235, 

298,  458. 

Amida  Buddha,  102,   103,  446. 
Amos,  138,  144. 
Amulets,  31,  35. 
Anabaptists,  180. 
Ananda,  96. 
Anaxagoras,    115. 
Andover  movement,  196,  197. 
Angell,  James  R.,  vi,  233,  451,  456. 
Anglican      Church,      see      England, 

Church   of. 

Animism,  48-51,  70,  112. 
Anne,  St.,   174. 
Anselm,  St.,  169. 


Anthropomorphism,      108,      112-115, 

131,  136,  137,  339,  340. 
Antiochus  Epiphanes,  134,  145. 
Apocalyptic  literature,  145,  146,  152. 
Apollo,  109. 

Apostolic  succession,   159. 
Aquinas,  see  Thomas  Aquinas,  St. 
Arahat,  89,  100. 
Aristotle,  116,  128,  332. 
Ark  of  the  covenant,  132,  133. 
Arminianism,  179,  180,  392. 
Arminius,  J.,   179. 
Arnold,   Matthew,  130. 
Art  and  religion,  55,  56. 
Aryans,  early,  69. 
Asceticism,  79. 
Asoka,  97. 
Atheism,  360,  361. 
Athene,  Pallas,  111. 
Atman,  the,  74,  75,  91. 
Atonement,  66,  164. 
Attis,  123,  124. 
Augustine,   St.,    164,    167,    168,   291, 

392. 

Augustus  Caesar,  122,  123. 
Australians  (aborigines)  5,  Chap.  II, 

38,  39,  45,  51,  52,  61. 
Awakening   of    religious    sentiment, 

240,-250. 
Ayer,  J.  C.,  Jr.,  171. 


BAALIM,  133,  140. 


Bacchic,  see  Dionysiac. 

Bacchus,  119;  see  Dionysus. 

Bacon,  B.  W.,  171. 

Bacon,  Francis,  186. 

Baganda,  the,  Chap.  IV. 

Baptism,  59,  125,  128,  152,  154,  160, 

177,  180,  181,  184. 
Baptists,  184,  190. 
Barton,  George  A.,  84,  107. 
Beck,  F.  O.,  279,  284,  453. 
Bible,  see  Canon. 
Begbie,  see  Harold,  250. 
Benedict  XIV.,  302. 
Bergson,  H.,  314-316,  327,  413,  419. 
Berkeley,  G.,  350,  352. 
Bishops,  see  episkopoi. 
Bodlii  tree,  86,  97,  98. 


Boddhisattvas,  46,  100,  446. 

Borneo,  natives  of,  39,  443. 

Boror6,  the,  60. 

Bosanquet,  B.,  390,  457,  458,  463. 

Boutroux,  £.,  304,  316. 

Bradley,  F.  H.,  463. 

Brahe,' Tycho,  186. 

Brahma,  73-78. 

Brahmanism,  chap.  VII. 

Brooke,  Sir  James,  62. 

Brooks,  Phillips,  196,  303. 

Brotherhood,   the   Buddhist,   85,   95, 

96,   105. 

Brown,  W.  Adams,  213,  390. 
Browne,  Robert,  183. 
Browning,  Robert,  194,  386,  449. 
Budde,  K.,  150. 


464 


INDEX 


465 


Buddha,  ^Gautama  Siddartha),  3, 
13,  45,  46,  79,  85-88,  90,  93,  94,  96, 
99,  100,  101,  105. 

Buddhism,  6,  45,  46,  Chap.  VIII., 
211. 

Bunjil,  15. 

CALKINS,    MARY 
Calvin,  John,  178,  197,  391. 
Calvinism,    178,    179,    182,   183,   184, 

391. 

Canaanites,  132,  133,  138. 
Canon,   159,   160. 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  194,  457. 
Cartwright,  Thomas,  183. 
Case,  S.  J.,  171,  447. 
Catherine  of  Siena,  St.,  298,  302. 
Catholic  Church,  see  Christianity. 
Ceremonials,  58,  59. 
Ceremonies,  9-17,  19-24,  60. 
Ceylon,  97,  98. 
Chamberlain,  T.  C.,  311. 
Channing,  Wm.  Ellery,  195. 
Charles  I.,  183. 
Charles,  R.  H.,  150. 
China,  98,  102-104. 
Chivalry,  102,  169. 
Christianity   (in  general)   6,  55,  66, 

83,  104-107,  125,  146. 

(ancient)  151-166. 

(and  Buddhism)    85,  89,  101-107. 

(the  Church)  200. 

(definition  of)    151. 

(Eastern)    168. 

(finality  of)   208-S12. 

(function  of)   205,  206. 

(and  Greek  and  Roman  religion) 
109,  124-129. 

(and  Judaism)  146-149. 

(medieval)    101,  166-171,  450. 

(Protestant)  4,  102,  159,  161,  175- 
197,  448,  449. 

(Roman   Catholic)    159,   165,   166, 
172-175,  206,  207,  392,  448,  450. 


Bunyan,  John,  29'2,  302. 
Burma,  94,  98,  99. 
Burr,  Anna  R.,  454. 
Bushido,  102. 
Butler,  Joseph,  188. 
Byron,  372. 

W.,    316,    32D,  456,  458. 
Christian  Science,  297,  453. 
Churinga,  12. 

Circumcision,  10,  132,  144,  148,  156. 
Civa,  see  Shiva. 
Clemen,  C.,  171. 
Co-conscious,  the,  217,  218,  246. 
Codrington,  R.  H.,  25,  26,  30. 
Coe,  G.  A.,  43,  57,  237,  247,  267,  294, 

444. 

Coleridge,  193. 
Communion,    the    Holy,    see    Lord's 

Supper,  the. 

Comte,  A.,  435,  453,  457. 
Confirmation,  146,  161. 
Congregationalism,   183,  190. 
Conservation  of  values,  41-44,   151, 

286;  see  Values. 
Constantine  the  Great,  158. 
Consu'bstantiation,  177. 
Conversion,   86,    142,   156,   167,   190, 

241-250. 

Cooley,  C.  H.,  284. 
Copernican  astronomy,  185,  186. 
Cotton,  John,  177. 
Councils,  158. 
Creeds,  163-165. 
Creighton,   J.    E.,   vi,   458. 
Criticism,    the    higher,    87,   88,    136, 

151-154,  160,  195. 
Cumont,  F.,  130. 
Custom,  14,  29,  66. 
Cutten,  G.  B.,  255,  256,  281,  295,  452. 
Cybele,  123,  124. 


DAHLKE, 
Damnation,  439. 
Daniel,  book   of,  145. 
Dante,  170,  371. 
Daramulun,  15. 
Darwin,   Charles,   321,  366. 
Darwinism,  321-325. 
Davenport,  F.  M.,  452. 
David,  132,  133,  137. 
Dawson,  G.  E.,  235. 
Deacons,  158. 
Decalogue,  the,  142. 


PAUL,   107,  445,  446. 

De  Coulanges,  F.,  130,  446,  453. 

Deists,  the,  188. 

Deities,    evolution    of,    59-64.     See 

Gods. 

Delacroix,   H.,  304. 
Democritus,   115,   118. 
Dennett,  R.  E.,  40. 
Descartes,  R.,  168,   186,  456. 
Determinism,   397,   400-402,   405-407, 

461. 
Deussen,   Paul,  78,  84. 


466 


INDEX 


Deuteronomic  code,  14 -P. 

De  Vries,  H.,  324. 

Dewey,  John,  17,  130,  149,  445. 

Dhamma,  85,  88-95. 

Dharmakaya,  101. 

Dickinson,"  G.  Lowes,  130,  426,  441. 

Dio  Chrysostom,  113. 

Dionysiac  cult,  119,  120. 

Dionysus,  119. 

Dipolia,  the.  111. 

Disciples,  191. 

Dispersion,  Jewish,  134. 

Divination,  99. 

EASTMAN, 

Eckhart,  170. 

Ecstacy,    295-298. 

Eddy,  "Mrs.  M.  B.,  297. 

Einstein,  455. 

Elisabeth,  Queen,  182,  183,  204. 

Ellis,   A.  B.,  40. 

Emerson,  R.  W.,  194,  196,  373. 

Emmanuel  movement,  285,  453. 

Emotion,  220-222,  225,  451. 

Emperor  worship,  122. 

England,  Church   of,   182,   183,   187. 

Enlightenment,   the,   185-189. 

Enoch,  book  of,  145. 

Enthusiasm,  189. 

Ephods,  132. 

Epicureans,  the,  118. 

Episcopal   Church,   Protestant,   183. 


Doctrines.  3,  6,  88-95.   117,   164-166, 

169;  see  Dogmas. 
Dogmas,  4,  (5/43,  174.  175,  17  j. 
Dominic,  St.,  169. 
Dowd,  J..  40. 
Dousall,  Lily,  463. 
Drake,  Dura'nt,  213,  314,  390. 
Dreams,  7,  50. 
Drews,  Arthur,  447. 
Driesch,  Hans,  3-'5. 
Durkheim,  £.,  14,  17,  68,  442. 
Dyaks,  the,  62. 
Dysteleology,  Chap.  XVIII,  sec.  6. 

C.  A.,  67. 

Episkopoi,  158,  159. 

Erinyes,   110. 

Ethical   Culture,  457. 

Ethical  inwardness,  199,  200. 

Ethics,  116,  128. 

Eucharist,  see  Lord's  Supper. 

Euripides,  109,  114. 

Evangelicalism,   190. 

EvanseHcal  movement,  the,  189-191. 

Everett,  W.  G.,  411,  461. 

Evil,  problem  of,  Chap.  XX,  119. 

Evolution,  312-316,  321-328,  334-336. 

Exile,   the   Jewish,   134. 

Extreme   Unction,  162. 

Ezekiel,  140,  142,  143,  144. 

Ezra,  134,  142,  143. 


FAIRBANKS,  A.,  130. 


Faith,  368. 

Farnell,  L.  It,  21,  61,  68,  110,  130, 

445. 

Farquhar,  J.  N.  84. 
Fatalism,  461. 
Fathers,  ancient,  164. 
Fechner,   G.   T.,  422,  441. 
Federation  of  Churches,  908. 
Ferrerro,  G.,   130. 
Fetichism,  31,  34,  35,  63,  132. 
Fichte.  J.  G..  194,  432. 
Finney,  C.  G.,  244. 
Fiske,"  John,  235,  316,  363,  399,  459. 
Fite,  Warner,  vi,  443. 


Flournoy,  Ah.,  369,  379,  460. 
Fogazzaro,  A.,  301. 
Fosdick,  H.  E.,  284. 
Foster,  G.  B.,  213,  458. 
Fourth  Gospel,  see  John,  St,  (Gos- 
pel). 

Fowler,  W.  W.,  130. 
Fox.  George,  185,  292,  302. 
Francis  of  Assissi,  St.,  169,  298,  302. 
Frazer,  J.  G.,  17,  21,  31,  54. 
Freedom  of  the  will,  Chap.  XXI. 
Friedlander,    M.,    150. 
Friends,  185.     See  Quakers. 
Function  of  religion;  see  Religion. 


GALILEO,  186. 


Gautama  Siddartha,  see  Buddha. 
Geiger,  J.  R.,  458. 
Genesis,  book  of,  137. 
Genius,  110. 

Ghosts,  15,  25,  27,  33,  35,  36,  49,  61, 
63,  110,  112. 


Gibbon,   Edward,   188. 
Gibbons,  Cardinal,  197.  443. 
Gillen,  F.  J.,  see  Spencer,  B. 
Glossolalia,  298;  see  Speaking  with 

tongues. 
Glover,  T.  R.,  171. 


INDEX 


467 


God,  45,  6-1,  66,  147. 

and    the    Absolute,    353-355,    393, 

405-407,  435-437. 
anthropomorphic,  339,  340. 
in  early  religion,  30. 
evidence    for    and    against,   Chap. 

XIX. 

and  experience,  343,344. 
and  evil,  Chap.  XX. 
external,  255,  280,  281,  375-380. 
and  freedom,  Chap.  XXI. 
immanent,  256,   282-285,  382-390. 
and  immortality,  Chap.  XXII. 


God  (Coned.) 

in  mysticism,  304. 

in  prayer,  277-281. 

in  religious  awakenings,  255,  255. 

symbolical,  338,  339. 

and  teleology,  341-343. 
Gods,  evolution  of,  30,  44,  45,  59-64. 
Gomperz,  Th.,  130. 
Gospels,  the,  152,  160,  166,  290,  291. 
Greece,  5,  Chap.  IX. 
Gregory  the  Great,  St.,  158,  167. 
Growth,    continuous    religious,    240, 

241,  246-249. 


HABITS,  220-222. 


Hadfield,  J.  A.,  419. 

Hadrian,   135. 

Haggai,  143. 

Haldane,  J.  S.,  317,  321,  456. 

Hale,  E.  E.,  240,  241. 

Hall,  G.  Stanley,  256,  453. 

Harnack,  A.,  171. 

Harrison,  Jane  E.,  65,  130. 

Harvey,  William,  186. 

Healing,  Divine,  270. 

Heart,  the  Sacred,  303. 

Heaven,  186,  440. 

Hebrews,  5,  24,  Chap.  X.  See  Ju- 
daism. 

Hebrews,  Epistle  to  the,  415. 

Hegel,  G.  W.  F.,  194,  352. 

Hell,  186,  440. 

Helwys,  Thomas,   184. 

Henderson,  L.  J.,  312,  313,  455. 

Henry  VIII,  182. 

Hera,  113. 

Heraclitus,  115. 

Heroes,  111. 

Hesiod,  137. 

Hestia,  24,  109,  111. 

Hewitt,  J.  N.  B.,  30. 

Hezekiah,  139. 

Hibben,  J.  G.,  198. 

Higher  criticism,  see  Criticism, 
higher. 


Hinayana,  97,  98,  100. 
Hinduism,  modern,  80-84,  96. 
Hindu  Kush,  women  of  the,  52. 
Hobbes,  Thomas,  308. 
Hobhouse,  L.  T.,  vii,  84,   107,   1?P. 

150,   213,  334,  379,  380,  449,   45o, 

456,  460. 

Hoernld,  R.  F.  A.,  359,  458. 
Holbach,  Baron,  361. 
Holiness  Code,  the,  142. 
Homer,  113,  185. 
Homeric  poems,  112,  113. 
Hopkins,   E.   W.,   30,  84,   107,   12fl. 

149,  171,  197. 
Horace,  118. 
Hose,  Charles,  40,  443. 
Hosea,  138,  139. 
Howard,  G.  E.,  213. 
Howison,  G.  H.,  337. 
Howitt,  A.  W.,  9,  17. 
Hugel,  F.  von,  304. 
Huguenots,  the,  179. 
Hume,  David,  91,  188. 
Humanitarianism,  201. 
Husband,  R.  W.,  447,  448. 
Husik,  I.,  150,  446. 
Huss,  John,  175. 
Huxley,  T.  H.,  326,  456,  457. 


IDEALISM,  350-355. 


Ideo-motor  action,  252,  452. 
Ignatius,  St.,  158,  163. 
Iliad,  the,  112,  137. 
Imitation,  237-229. 
Immaculate  Conception,  the,  174. 
Immortality,  Chap.   XXII;   75,  120, 
124,  157,"  346-349. 


Incarnation,  the,  164. 
Indeterminism.  397-405. 
India,  Chap.  VII;  85-98. 
Indians,  North  American,  67. 
Individual,  the,  6,  41,  89,  176,  177, 

180. 
Infidelity,  191. 


468 


INDEX 


Initiation  ceremonies,  10-14,  17,  29,      Isaac,  65. 


120. 

Inspiration,  136,  141,  298,  299. 

Instincts,  218-220. 

Intichiuma  ceremonies,  12,  13,  14,  17. 

Intolerance,    204,    205;    see    Tolera- 
tion. 


Isabella,  Queen,  172. 
Isaiah,  138,  139,  140,  144. 
Isis,  123,  124. 
Isthar,  55. 


JACOB,  65. 


Jael,  137. 

James,  St.,   ("the  son  of  Zebedee") 

153. 
James,  St.,    ("the  Lord's  brother") 

158. 

James  I.,  183. 
James,  William,  243,  245,  254,  255, 

256,   265,   280,   355-357,   364,   376- 

379,   397,   399,    402-404,   417,    418, 

429,  430,  461,  462,  463. 
Japan,  88,  102-104. 
Jehovah,  13.     See  Yahweh. 
Jennings,  H.  S.,  319. 
Jeremiah,  140,  143,  144. 
Jerome,  St.,  164,  176,  203. 
Jesuits,  172. 
Jesus  Christ,  2,  13,  66,  79,  85,  88,  96, 

101,    105,    109,    135,    151-154,    199, 

200,  209,  210,  274,  375,  447,  448, 

450,  453. 

Jevons,  F.  B.,  21. 
Jodo,  102. 


KALI, 

Kallen,  H.  M.,  458. 
Kant,    I.,    186,    193,   332,    336,   347, 

351,  361,  457. 

Karma,  law  of,  81,  90J93,  99,  100. 
Kashmir,  97. 
Kautsch,    Emil,    150. 
Kempis,  a,   see  Thomas   a   Kempis. 
Kennedy,  H.  A.,  171. 
Keres,  112. 
Khandas,  89. 


John,  the  Apostle,  St.,  153. 

(Fourth  Gospel)  160,  290,  291. 

(Epistles)   290. 

(Revelation)    146,  438,  448.     See 

Apocalyptic  literature. 
John  the  Baptist,  St.,  152. 
John  of  the  Cross,  St.,  174,  292,  302. 
John  of  Ruysbroeck,  170. 
Joly,  H.,  304. 
Jonah,  book  of,  144. 
Jones,  R.  M.,  290,  300. 
Jones,  W.,  30. 
Joseph,  M.,  150. 
Josiah,  134. 
Judas  Iscariot,  154. 
Judd,  C.  H.,  456. 
Jude,  Epistle  of,  204,  448. 
Judges,  book  of,  133. 
Judaism,    4,    55,     66,    83,     127-129, 

Chap.  X. 

Julian  of  Norwich,  St.,  292,  296. 
Julius  Caesar,  118. 
Jupiter,  122. 

Justice,  116,  138,  139,  147,  201,  202. 
Justification,  178. 

81,  82. 

King,  H.  C.,  212. 

King,   Irving,  vii,  23,  68,  256,  444. 
Kingsley,  Charles,  196. 
Kingsley,  Mary  H.,  40. 
Knights  of  Columbus,  175. 
Knox,  John,  184. 
Kohler,  K.,  150,  390,  446. 
Korea,  98. 
Krishna,  81,  82,  83. 
Kwannon,  103. 


LAMA,  GRAND,  101. 


Lamaism,  98,  101. 

Lamarck,  324. 

Lang,  A.,  21,  30. 

La  Place,  307,  311. 

Lares,  110. 

Law,  in  religion,  43,  48,  131,  134. 

Buddhist,  see  Dhamma. 

Jewish,  131,  134,  141-143,  146,  148, 
152. 


Lea,  H.  C.,  450. 

Lecky,  W.  E.  H.,  213. 

Leibniz,  187. 

Leonard,  A.  G.,  40. 

Leuba,  J.    H.,  vii,  44,  57,   68,  278, 

423,  424,  443,  445. 
Leucippus,  115. 
Levine,  E.,  149. 
Levitical  code,  142. 


INDEX 


469 


Le"vy-Bruhl,  L.,  442. 

Liberty,  118. 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  196,  302,  346. 

Lindsey,  Theophilus,  195. 

Locke,  John,  186,  187,  181. 

Loeb,  J.,  319,  320. 

Lodge,  Sir  Oliver,  420,  462. 

Logos,  101,  115,  118. 

Loisy,  A.,  291. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  196,  248. 


Lord's  Supper,  128,  160,  161,  177. 

Louis  of  Gonzaga,  St.,  303. 

Love,  95,  147. 

Lovejoy,  A.  O.,  443. 

Loyola,   St.    Ignatius,    172,    292-294, 

302. 

Luke,  Gospel  of,  160. 
Luther,  Martin,  175. 
Lutheranism,  102,  177,  178,  182. 
Lyman,  E.  W.,  369. 


MACCABEES, 
McComb,  S.,  453. 
McDougall,  William,  vi,  40,  223,  233, 

328,  335,  397,  419,  420,  451,  457. 
McGiffert,  A.  C.,  171,  19'7. 
McGilvary,  E.  B.,  vii. 
Macintosh,  D.  C.,  356. 
Magic,  20-23,  37,  51-54,  64,  65,  67. 
Magoutier,  Marie,  297. 
Mahayana,  97,  98,  100,  101. 
Maimonides,  132. 
Malachi,  143. 
Malinowski,  B.,  16,  442. 
Mana,  25-30,   35,  37,   44,   50,   58-63, 

69,  73,  77,  136. 
Manitou,  27,  44,  68. 
Manu,  code  of,  79,  80,  84. 
Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus,  261. 
Marett,  R.  R.,  vii,  21,  28,  443. 
Mark,  Gospel  of,  160. 
Marriage,  162,  201. 
Martineau,  J.,  404. 
Mary,  the  Blessed  Virgin,  163,  174. 
Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  184. 
Mathews,  S.,  171,  213. 
Maya,  74. 

Mead,  G.  H.,  vi,  456. 
Mechanism,  Chap.  XVIII. 
Mecklin,  J.  M.,  179,  449. 
Mediums,  22,  34,  421. 
Melanesian  religion,  24-30. 
Mercier,  Cardinal,  175,  197. 
Messiah,  the  145,  146,  152-155,  15T. 
Messianic  hope,  143-146,  148. 
Metaphysics,  305. 
Methodists,  190. 


THE,  135. 
Methodology,  vii. 
Micah,  138,  139,  144. 
Mill,  J.  S.,  377,  459. 
Miller,  Lucius  Hopkins,  171. 
Milton,  John,  185,  371,  393. 
Mind,  a  Universal,  341,  342,  347,  348. 
Miracles,  86,  87,  106,  153,  161,  177, 

185,  187,  188,  189,  268. 
Mishna,  135. 
Missions,   97-99,   103,  144',  145,   155, 

156,  168,  173,  211,  212. 
Mitchell,  H.  G.,  150. 
Mithra,  123-126. 
Modernism,  175. 
Mohammedanism,  132,  149. 
Moloch,  55. 

Monasticism,  86,  95,  96,  169,  173. 
Monier- Williams,  M.,  84. 
Monotheism,  139,  141. 
Monteflore,  C.  G.,  150. 
Moore,  A.  W.,  vi. 
Moore,  Benjamin,  455. 
Moore,  C.  H.,  130. 
Moore,  G.  F.,  84,  107,  129,  150,  171, 

197. 

Morality  and  religion,  54,  55. 
Moravians,  190,  191. 
Morton,  Joseph,  184. 
Moses,  132,  137. 

Munsterberg,  H.,  328,  422,  423,  432. 
Murray,  Gilbert,  113,  ISO. 
Mysteries,  119,  120,  123-126. 
Mysticism,  Chap.  XVII. 
Myths,  6,  20,  43,  47,  48,  70,  112,  137, 

138. 


NEBUCHADNEZZAR,  134. 

Neo-platonists,  123.  Nietzsche,  F.,  425. 

Neo-Scholasticism,  170,  175.  Niger,  tribes,  49. 

Newman,  J.  H.,  165,  192,  197.  Nirvana,  89,  90,  91,  93,  102. 

Newton,  Isaac,  186.  Nitobe,  I.  O.,  107. 

Nibbana,  see  Nirvana.  Noah,  65,  137. 


470 


INDEX 


ODYSSEY,  THE,  112,  113,  137. 
Olympians,  112-114.  Osiris,  123. 

Orders,  Holy,  162.  Oudah,  27. 

Orenda,  27.  Overton,  J.  H.,  449. 

Orpheus,  119,  120. 

PALEY,  WM.,  318. 


Panpsychism,  422. 

Pantheism,  74,  115,  373-376,  459. 

Parallelism,     psycho-physical,     421, 

422.  ' 

Passover,  the,  132,  138,  142,  146. 
Pater,  W.,  130. 

Pathological  tendencies,  300-303. 
Patten,  William,  337,  457. 
Paul,  St.,  105,  144,  148,  156-161,  289, 

290,  448,  450. 

Paulsen,  F.,  129,  213,  336,  422. 
Penance,  162. 
Penates,  110. 
Penn,  William,  185. 
Pentateuch,  134,  142. 
Pentecost,  154. 
Perry,  R.  B.,  360. 
Persians,  the,  134. 
Pessimism,  92-95. 
Peter,  St.,  153,  154,  158,  159. 
Pharisees,  152,  153. 
Phidias,  113. 
Philosophy,  47. 

Philosophy  of  religion,  vii,  viii,  4. 
Pietists,  the,  191. 
Pilate,  Pontius,  135,  154,  447. 
Pilgrim  Fathers,  183. 
Pindar,  114. 
Pitakas,  the,  86,  87. 
Pius  IX,  174. 
Pius  X,  175. 
Plato,  116,  262,  438,  440,  463. 


Play  and  religion,  57,  229,  230. 

Plotinus,  431. 

Pluralism,  402,  404. 

Pompey,  135. 

Pope,  Alexander,  375,  457. 

Popes,  the,  158,  168,  170,  171,  174. 

Positivism,  453,  457. 

Pragmatism,  355-358. 

Pratt,  J.   B.,  61,  84,   149,  245,  256, 

287,  296,  443,  452,  453,  454. 
Prayer,  9,  19-21,  45,  66-68,  101,  140, 

163,  174,  Chap.  XVI. 
Predestination,  178,  179. 
Presbuteroi,  158. 
Presbyterianism,  183,  184,  190. 
Priestley,  Joseph,  195. 
Prince,  Morton,  217,  233,  433,  451. 
Pringle-Pattison,    A.    S.,    337,    379, 

458. 

Prophets,  the,  133,  134,  136-141. 
Protestantism,  see  Christianity. 
Providence,  119. 
Psalms,  the,  140,  143. 
Psuedo-conversions,  251-253. 
Psychical   Research,  420. 
Psychology,  Chap.  XIV. 
Psychology  of  religion,  vii,  3,  Part 

Ptolemies,  the,  134. 
Purgatory,  168,  440. 
Puritans,  183,  184. 


QUAKERS,  177,  185. 


RANSOM, 

Rashdall,  H.,  210,  380,  381,  460,  461. 
Rationalism,  185-189,  191-195. 
Rauschenbusch,  W.,  213. 
Realism,  the  new,  358-360. 
Redemption,  6,  20. 
Reformation,  the,  172,  173,  175-185. 
Refuge  formula,  Buddhist,  13,  91. 
Rehoboam,  133. 
Relics,  163. 
Religion,  comparative,  47,  48. 

defined,  5,  Chap.  V. 
Religions,  classified,  5,  6,  47,  48,  69'. 

functions  of,  165,  205. 

primitive,  Chapters  II-V. 

technique  of,  48. 


S.  W.,  284. 

Resurrection,  120,  123,  154. 
Revelation,  book  of,  see  under  John. 
Revelations,  7,  28,  see  Inspiration. 
Revivals,  190,  251-253. 
Rhys  Davids,  T.  W.,  90. 
Right  to  believe,  364-368,  459. 
Riley,  I.  Woodbridge,  198. 
Rites,  15. 

Ritual,  3,  6,  24,  43,  128,  142,  146. 
Rivers,  W.  H.  R.,  19-24,  31. 
Robertson,  F.  W.,  196. 
Rogers,  A.  K.,  369,  390 
Roman  Catholicism,  see  Christianity. 
Rome,  Chap.  IX. 
Roscoe,  John,  31,  40. 


INDEX 


471 


Russell,  B.,  359,  457,  458. 
Ruth,  book  of,  144. 


Rousseau,  J.  J.,  191,  236. 
Royce,    J.,    31(5,    376,    382-387,    405- 
407,  435-437,  462. 

SACRAMENTALS,  162,  163,  177. 
Sacraments,   120,   124,   128,  160-163,      Smith,  H.  P.,  150,  447. 


178,  177,  185. 
Sacrifice,  6,  9,  13,  21,  22,  36,  45,  64- 

66,  71-73. 
Saints,  the,  89,   100,   112,   147,   163, 

301,  302. 

Salter,  W.  M.,  457. 
Salvation,  439,  440. 
Samkhya  philosophy,  79,  86. 
Sanctification,  251. 
Sangha,  85,  96,  97. 
Santayana,  G.  S.,  457. 
Saul  of  Tarsus,  155.    See  Paul,  St. 
Schechter,  S.,  150. 
Schiller,  F.  C.  S.,  vii,  381,  398,  403, 

411,  418,  460,  462. 
Schleiermacher,  F.  D.  E.,  45,  194. 
Schleiter,  F.,  30,  57. 
Schmidt,  N.,  171. 
Schurman,  J.  G.,  459. 
Schweitzer,  A.,  171. 
Science,    46,    47,    186,    281-283,    308, 

309-326,  339,  340,  417-424. 
Seashore,  C.  E.,  57,  445. 
Seleucid  dynasty,  134. 
Self,  the,  89,  230-233. 
Sellars,  R.  W.,  359,  457. 
Sennacherib,  139,  140. 
Sentiment,  the  religious,  45,  222,  223, 

Chap.  XV. 
Sentiments,  220-223. 
Separatists,  the,  183. 
Sermon,  the,  128;  cf.  123. 
Sex,  200,  201. 
Shaftesbury,  187. 
Shand,  A.  F.,  233,  242,  243. 
Sheldon,  W.  H.,  vii. 
Shelley,  P.  B.,  372. 
Shema,  the,  142. 
Shin,   102-104. 
Shiva,  81. 

Siddartha,  see  Buddha. 
Simon  Maccabaeus,  135. 
Sin,  original,  178. 

sense  of,  242-244. 


Smith,  W.  B.,  447. 

Smith,  W.  Roberston,  68,  150. 

Smyth,  John,  184. 

Sneath,  E.  H.,  369. 

Socinians,  181. 

Socrates,  65,  88,  116,  119. 

Sollas,  W.  J.,  17,  442. 

Solomon,  133. 

Sophists,  the,  115. 

Sophocles,  114. 

Sorcery,  22,  23,  25. 

Sorley,  W.  R.,  316,  461. 

Soul,  the,  91,  420,  429,  430,  438,  439. 

Sozzini,  F.,  181. 

Spaulding,  E.  G.,  359,  360,  458. 

Spencer,  B.,  9,  12,  17,  29,  61. 

Spencer,  H.,  316,  362,  363. 

Spinoza,  B.,  187,  188,  431,  432,  446. 

Spiritism,  420,  421,  462,  463. 

Spirits,  15,  33,  48,  49,  61,  110. 

Spiritual  exercises,  75,  79,  173,  292- 
295. 

Spiritualism,  see  Idealism,  Spirit- 
ism. 

Starbuck,  E.  D.,  235,  236,  242,  245, 
254. 

Stephen,  St.,  155. 

Stigmatisation,  298;  cf.  290. 

Stoics,  the,  118,  127. 

Streeter,  B.  H.,  196,  441. 

Strehlow,  9. 

Strong,  Anna  Louise,  260,  267,  284, 
452. 

Subconscious,  the,  6,  7,  28,  30,  77, 
136,  215-218,  220,  245,  246,  265- 
267,  281. 

Subhadra  Bhikshu,  107. 

Suggestion,  224. 

Suso,  170. 

Symbolism,  338,  339'. 

Sympathy,  226,  227. 

Synagogue,  the,  134,  141-143,  146. 


Talmud,  135. 

Tanner,   Amy   Eliza,   256,   279,   285, 

463. 

Tathagata,  the,  85. 
Tauler,  J.,  170,  292. 
Tegner,  248. 


TABOO,  21,  29,  59. 

Teleology,  Chap.  XVIII,  341-343. 
Telepathy,  420,  462,  463. 
Tennyson,     Alfred,     193,    196,    311, 

355,  406. 

Teresa,  St.,  56,  174,  268,  292,  302. 
Theism,  371-376,  459. 


472 


INDEX 


Theology,  4,  169. 

Thibet,  98,  101. 

Thilly,  Frank,  vii,  198,  460,  461. 

Thomas  Aquinas,  St.,  169. 

Thomas  &  Kempis,  170,  292. 

Thomson,  J.  A.,  819. 

Tiberius  Caesar,  122. 

Todas,  18-24,  38. 

Toleration,    78,    106,    177,    185,    187, 

189,  197,  205. 
Tongues,   speaking    with,    154,    296; 

see  Glossolalia.    . 
Torah,  134,  142. 
Totems,   11,   12,   14,   29,   33,   51,   52, 


Toy,  C.  H.,  17,  442. 

Tradition,  14. 

Trajan,  123. 

Transmigration,  74,  75. 

Transsubstantiation,  177,  178. 

Trent,  Council  of,  173. 

Trinity,  the,  147,  164,  181. 

Truth,  1,  2,  4,  £9,  30. 

Tshi,  the,  48. 

Tucker,  W.  J.,  196. 

Tufts,  James   H.,  -vi,   130,  149,  213, 

369,  449. 

Tychism,  402,  403. 
Tylor,  E.  B.,  48,  57. 


60,  61. 

UNDERBILL,  EVELYN,  287,  290,  304,  453,  454. 
Unitarianism,  181,  195,  196.  Urban,  W.  M.,  viL 

Upanishads,  the,  73,  78. 

VALUES,  conservation  of  socially    recognized,  41-44. 


Values,    (either   sought  or    actually 
conserved  by  various  religions). 
Australians,  16. 
Baganda,  32,  33,  39. 
Buddhism,  98-100,  105-107. 
Christianity,  Chap.  XIII. 
Ethical  religions,  5,  6,  55. 
Greece  and  Rome,  108-113,  116- 

128. 

India,  71,  72,  75,  78,  80,  82. 
Judaism,  146-148. 


Values   (Cont'd.) 

Natural  religions,  5,  54. 

Todas,  23,  24. 
Vedanta,  the,  73. 
Vedas,  the,  69-73. 
Vespasian,  123. 
Vesta,  110. 
Virgil,  185. 
A^ishnu,  81-83. 
Visions,  7,  296,  297. 
Votaw,  C.  W.,  171. 


WAKONDA,   27. 


Walker,  Williston,  171,  197. 
Wallas,  Graham,  vii,  233,  451. 
Ward,  James,  337,  396,  404,  405. 
Washington,  345. 
Watson,  A.  C.,  56,  57,  443,  444. 
Watson,  J.  B.,  456. 
Weismann,  324,  413. 
Wernle,  P.  171. 
Wesley,  Charles,  190. 
Wesley,  John,  190. 
Westermarck,  E.,  62,  213,  335. 
,White,  Andrew  D.,  204. 


Whitfield,  George,  190. 

Will  to  believe,  see  Right  to  believe. 

Wilm,  E.  C.,  336,  369,  390. 

Windelband,  W.,  130. 

Winthrop,  John,  183. 

Woman,  9'6,  126,  127,  203. 

Worcester,  Ellwood,  285. 

Wordsworth,  193,  261,  463. 

Wright,   W.    K.,   vii,   443,   451,  452, 

463. 

Wundt,  W.,  17,  68,  442. 
Wyclif,  John,  175. 


XENOPHANES,  115. 
Ximines,  172. 

YAHWEH,  5,  55,  65,  131-149,  152. 
Yoga,  79,  83,  86. 

ZEALOTS,  THE,  135. 

Zechariah,  143.  Zeus,  109,  111,  113,  122. 

Zeller,  E.,  130.  Zwingli,  178. 

Zerubbabel,  134,  143. 


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